Bayou Corruption by Robin Caroll

whispered.
    Grandmere chuckled.
    Alyssa stopped at the nurses’ station to find out where they’d taken the sheriff. Fourth floor. Another trial to endure—the elevator. Small, confining metal car…she could almost smell the burning gasoline. She held her breath as she counted the numbers flashing over the door of the elevator. She rubbed her lip and forced herself to keep her eyes open. She had to fight the memories—they were always stronger in Lagniappe. The car finally dinged at four, and the doors eased open. She couldn’t get out fast enough.
    And immediately wished she could run back.
    The odor of sickness hovered in the hallway, as if waiting to jump inside some healthy person when he least expected it. Alyssa shuddered. Hospitals always evoked memories. Bad memories. The ones that led to cauchemars.
    No more dreams. Not after the one last night.
    She let out a pent-up breath and headed toward the sheriff’s room. She’d arrived at the ICU before it dawned on her she’d slipped back into Cajun. While annoyed, she understood her error. Being around both CoCo and Grandmere almost guaranteed the use of the language. She’d be more careful now. Pay closer attention to her feelings.
    Alyssa approached the ICU nurses’ station. “Excuse me. I’d like to check on Sheriff Theriot.”
    A middle-aged nurse glanced at her from behind lowered glasses. “The sheriff isn’t allowed but one visitor at a time, and his friend is in with him now.” She jutted her chin toward a room with nothing but a glass wall. “But you can look at him from the observation window there.”
    â€œThank you.” Alyssa moved toward the glass, her heartbeat warring with the sounds of beeps and dings from all the medical equipment. She gripped the rail in front of the window, and her heart caught.
    Jackson Devereaux sat in the chair next to the bed, holding a Bible. His lips moved as his fingers kept place in the Scriptures. She didn’t want to be impressed, but couldn’t help but be mesmerized. A man, reading the Bible aloud to a friend in a coma? Alyssa had never seen anyone, save the preacher of her church back home, read the Bible, much less read aloud. Interesting.
    Â 
    â€œâ€¦but the greatest of these is love.” Jackson looked up from 1 Corinthians 13:13 as he caught movement out of the corner of his eye, his heart thrumming. Heat crept up his neck. Slowly he turned to face the glass wall.
    And met Alyssa LeBlanc’s stare.
    He smiled at her, closed the Bible and set the book on the little table beside Bubba. “I’m going to see this lady, Bubba.” He patted his friend’s shoulder. “I keep running into her and now she’s here, just as I read about love. Gotta wonder if God’s trying to tell me something.” He straightened and headed to the door.
    â€œI didn’t mean to interrupt you.” Something guarded darted across her eyes. “I only came by to check on the sheriff.”
    â€œI just finished. I needed some water anyway.”
    â€œOh. I didn’t mean to intrude.”
    â€œDon’t be silly, chère. You’re no interruption.” He tucked his thumb in his jeans pocket and studied her. “Would you like to join me for a quick bite?”
    She glanced at her watch. “I need to check back with my grandmother.”
    Everything inside him propelled him to be insistent. Something about this woman called out to him. “There’s a sandwich shop across the street. Won’t take but a few minutes.” He noticed the battle in her facial expression. “There are a couple of things I’d like to discuss with you. Why someone would attack Bubba, for starters.”
    Since when did he all but bribe a woman to go out with him?
    â€œAll right, I guess.”
    He fought to keep his smile cordial, not let it expand into the grin rising from his chest. Jackson offered her his