Read Online BayouBabe99er (BookStrand Publishing Romance) by Mickie Sherwood - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Mickie Sherwood
Tags: Romance
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microphone was shoved under her nose.
“Nate Jackson. WXUE TV. Are you the next of kin?”
“Next of kin indicates someone’s demise.” She took offense. “My uncle is very much alive.”
The statement seemed to fly over the news reporter’s head. “I’m told he’s one of the early settler’s of this close-knit community.”
Sharlene thought for a second. “I guess you could say that.”
“He was a…scalawag…I believe is the term used to describe him in his early days.”
“I’m not familiar with him in those terms,” she defended. Her attempt to end the unwanted interview took a nasty turn.
He put the mike to his mouth. “I also heard there was a real Hatfield-McCoy encounter between the Moutons and the Cormiers. Are you familiar with that?”
Her interested eyes searched the shadows for Drake. He was in deep conversation with a company man. And from the looks of things, he was far from happy. To be truthful, neither was she.
“I’ll tell you what I’m familiar with as it relates to Pauchex Pass, Nate Jackson.” She used his entire name to add emphasis to what she was about to say. “I’m familiar with the fact people here are losing their way of life thanks to the negligence of an uncaring business neighbor.”
“You’re talking about the oil spill,” he pronounced.
“I am.” Sharlene challenged further. “Why aren’t you?” She looked dead into the camera.
“I gather you hold the company totally responsible for what happened here?”
“If you know otherwise, I’m sure the community would love to hear your findings.”
“Let’s get back to the human interest story unfolding involving your uncle.”
Angry now, Sharlene snagged the hand holding the mike. “I’ve used my background in finances to help some of the residents in the area avoid foreclosure of their properties. A major setback for lots of hardworking people caught up by greed and corruption.”
“You have strong feelings about what happened here, don’t you?”
“Of course I do. Any person unaffected by the plight of these people are either cold or callous, if not both.”
“Did you know that same company used their resources to bring those two to safety?” He let that sink in. “That—your uncle refused the offer of rescue.”
“No,” she muttered. “I wasn’t aware of that. But it doesn’t surprise me. He’s a principled man—” Sharlene’s narration ended abruptly when the newsman reclaimed his microphone and did the “cut” cue by slicing his hand across his throat.
“Guess that was too much human interest for you.” She wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans in disgust.
He shot back, “Not as much as the story about the duel over Becky Cormier will be.” Then he was gone.
It was like changing dance partners for another strange man stared down on her. He was the same one who previously conversed with Drake. “Can I help you?” The inflection of her words held a lot of haughtiness. His look of disdain was unmistakable. Although the storm raged outside, he was immaculately dressed with not one blond hair on his head out of place.
“You’re treading on dangerous ground, Miss Mouton.”
“I could say the same about you—whoever you are.”
“I represent the company you vilify on your blog.”
“Mister, I can’t say this any plainer. You’d better get out of my face.”
“Be careful, BayouBabe99er.” As quietly as he slithered in, he slithered out, baring his fangs as he went. “Two can play that game. Wonder if the authorities would be interested in an unresolved shooting?”
Her jaw dropped.
Drake stomped up on her so fast, she jumped at his voice. “What did he say to you?” His eyes narrowed when she looked at him.
“Nothing,” she lied. Why she felt compelled to do so was beyond her. He was nothing to her. So what did it matter if her uncle was just implicated—twice—in a dubious act against his family members? “Was he rude?” His questions kept
“Nate Jackson. WXUE TV. Are you the next of kin?”
“Next of kin indicates someone’s demise.” She took offense. “My uncle is very much alive.”
The statement seemed to fly over the news reporter’s head. “I’m told he’s one of the early settler’s of this close-knit community.”
Sharlene thought for a second. “I guess you could say that.”
“He was a…scalawag…I believe is the term used to describe him in his early days.”
“I’m not familiar with him in those terms,” she defended. Her attempt to end the unwanted interview took a nasty turn.
He put the mike to his mouth. “I also heard there was a real Hatfield-McCoy encounter between the Moutons and the Cormiers. Are you familiar with that?”
Her interested eyes searched the shadows for Drake. He was in deep conversation with a company man. And from the looks of things, he was far from happy. To be truthful, neither was she.
“I’ll tell you what I’m familiar with as it relates to Pauchex Pass, Nate Jackson.” She used his entire name to add emphasis to what she was about to say. “I’m familiar with the fact people here are losing their way of life thanks to the negligence of an uncaring business neighbor.”
“You’re talking about the oil spill,” he pronounced.
“I am.” Sharlene challenged further. “Why aren’t you?” She looked dead into the camera.
“I gather you hold the company totally responsible for what happened here?”
“If you know otherwise, I’m sure the community would love to hear your findings.”
“Let’s get back to the human interest story unfolding involving your uncle.”
Angry now, Sharlene snagged the hand holding the mike. “I’ve used my background in finances to help some of the residents in the area avoid foreclosure of their properties. A major setback for lots of hardworking people caught up by greed and corruption.”
“You have strong feelings about what happened here, don’t you?”
“Of course I do. Any person unaffected by the plight of these people are either cold or callous, if not both.”
“Did you know that same company used their resources to bring those two to safety?” He let that sink in. “That—your uncle refused the offer of rescue.”
“No,” she muttered. “I wasn’t aware of that. But it doesn’t surprise me. He’s a principled man—” Sharlene’s narration ended abruptly when the newsman reclaimed his microphone and did the “cut” cue by slicing his hand across his throat.
“Guess that was too much human interest for you.” She wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans in disgust.
He shot back, “Not as much as the story about the duel over Becky Cormier will be.” Then he was gone.
It was like changing dance partners for another strange man stared down on her. He was the same one who previously conversed with Drake. “Can I help you?” The inflection of her words held a lot of haughtiness. His look of disdain was unmistakable. Although the storm raged outside, he was immaculately dressed with not one blond hair on his head out of place.
“You’re treading on dangerous ground, Miss Mouton.”
“I could say the same about you—whoever you are.”
“I represent the company you vilify on your blog.”
“Mister, I can’t say this any plainer. You’d better get out of my face.”
“Be careful, BayouBabe99er.” As quietly as he slithered in, he slithered out, baring his fangs as he went. “Two can play that game. Wonder if the authorities would be interested in an unresolved shooting?”
Her jaw dropped.
Drake stomped up on her so fast, she jumped at his voice. “What did he say to you?” His eyes narrowed when she looked at him.
“Nothing,” she lied. Why she felt compelled to do so was beyond her. He was nothing to her. So what did it matter if her uncle was just implicated—twice—in a dubious act against his family members? “Was he rude?” His questions kept
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