Return to Black Bayou

Book 1: Swamp Slayings

by Carla Cassidy

Genres: Gothic; Romantic Suspense

Synopsis

Revisit this cozy murder mystery, previously published as Unsolved Bayou Murder, by New York Times bestselling author Carla Cassidy.

Fifteen years ago, Beau Boudreau was wrongly accused and charged of murder, losing not only his reputation and freedom, but also his relationship with defense attorney Peyton LaCroix. Now, free from prison, Beau is ready to clear his name, and he needs the best ally on Black Bayou on his side.
As Beau convinces Peyton of his innocence and they work together on his case, sparks of attraction reignite between them. But with a killer on the lose and all odds against them, will they be able to reveal the real identity of the murderer before a second strike?

For fans of thrillers with:

• New Orleans Bayou
• Cold case mysteries
• Killers on the lose

The Swamp Slayings:

• Return to Black Bayou
• Found in Black Bayou
• Blood on Black Bayou

 

Release date: January 27, 2025

Publisher: Harlequin

Print pages: 256

Sample

Chapter One

Peyton LaCroix tapped her pencil on her desk and stared outside her office window. From this vantage point she could see up and down the main street of Black Bayou. The little town looked tired, with storefronts that were weathered and old. Heat shimmered up from the sidewalks, not uncommon for mid-July in Louisiana.

Above the buildings and in the distance, tall, bald cypress trees rose up and dripped with Spanish moss. Along with the cypress trees there were also water tupelos and black gum trees. They were a constant reminder of the swamp that half surrounded the small town.

The swamp and the people who lived there had always fascinated Peyton. The dark, murky waters with all the strange vegetation held both a sense of mystery and a faint hint of danger.

She’d found the people who came from the swamp to be proud and passionate, hardworking and generally law-abiding. Except for one. Her pencil lead suddenly snapped.

Her office door flew open and Kylie Bradford entered. “Hey, boss,” she said and flopped down in the chair opposite Peyton’s desk. “I’m bored.”

“That makes two of us,” Peyton admitted.

“I’m thinking about going out and committing a crime just so you can defend me.”

Peyton laughed. “I’m not that bored. However, you would make a good defendant...nothing bad in your background and with your halo of blond hair, blue eyes and angelic features you could definitely charm a jury.”

“That’s good to know for future purposes,” Kylie replied with a grin. “I really came in here to see if you wanted a sandwich or something else to eat. I’m going to run down to Big Larry’s for my lunch.”

Big Larry’s was a sandwich and burger joint a block away from Peyton’s office. “I’m really not in the mood for a sandwich, but I would eat a side of his cold pasta salad.”

“Then pasta salad it is,” Kylie said and stood. Peyton grabbed her purse from under the desk, but Kylie waved her away. “Lunch is on me today. I’ll be back in fifteen or twenty minutes.”

“Take your time. It’s too hot out there to rush,” Peyton replied.

When Peyton had opened her law office here in Black Bayou, she’d advertised for an assistant and the twenty-five-year-old, bright and energetic Kylie had answered the ad. She’d hired Kylie and since that time the two had become great friends.

With Kylie gone, Peyton leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. For the past fifteen years she’d been solely focused on her career as a defense attorney. She had graduated law school early and then had been lucky enough to get a job at a highly respected, busy law firm in Shreveport. During her last three years there she had worked on several high-profile cases that she’d won.

However, a year ago she’d realized she was beyond exhausted by the long hours and frantic pace her work entailed. She had no life outside of work so she’d made the decision that it was time to come home. She had moved back to Black Bayou and bought a small home and the building where she now had her office.

Her home was a cute two-bedroom that was perfect for just her, but her office building needed tons of work to replace rotting boards and repaint the entire building on the outside. The amount of work needed was the reason she’d gotten a good deal on it. Unfortunately, she hadn’t yet pulled together all the energy or the funds to start any of the renovations.

She had a healthy retirement fund but so far hadn’t been willing to tap into it for the repairs. She’d much rather make the money with her practice, but things had been slow.

At thirty-three years old she was now half-broke, but glad to have a slower pace. She was also ready to start building a personal life for herself. That started tonight. She had another date with Sam Landry, a respected banker she’d seen several times since returning to Black Bayou.

Kylie returned with lunch, and the afternoon hours crept by. The last case Peyton had worked had wrapped up the week before. A teenage boy from the swamp had been caught spray-painting the side of a building

owned by a prominent family, and that family wanted the book thrown at the boy. The district attorney had overcharged the kid, and his distraught parents had come to Peyton for help.

At the bench trial, Peyton had argued passionately for a reduction of charges. She made a case for probation and community service and thankfully, the judge had agreed with her.

His parents had been thrilled, but Peyton also knew they were not a moneyed family so she’d cut her fees in half, and Kylie had set up a payment plan for them.

It was just after three when Kylie came back through her office door. She shut the door behind her. “There is a totally hot guy out there in the waiting room. I’ve never seen him before and he wouldn’t give me his name but he insists he wants to see you.”

“Then by all means send him in,” Peyton replied. She didn’t care how hot the guy was, she was just hoping he needed counsel. She could definitely use the work.

Kylie left the room and a moment later he stepped over the door’s threshold. A loud roar resounded in Peyton’s head as she stared at the man who had been her first love...and her first betrayal.

Fifteen years had passed since she’d last seen Beau Boudreau, a man spawned by the swamp...and perhaps the very devil himself. He’d been twenty-one years old the last time she’d seen him. At that time he’d been darkly handsome with a hint of something wild and magnetic.

The years hadn’t changed that. If anything, age had chiseled his features, removing anything boyish that had once clung to him. His shoulders were still broad and his hips were slim. His body exuded a sinewy strength. His long black hair was now cut short, and there was something hard and bitter in the depths of his eyes.

He now gazed at her with dark, hooded eyes as he appeared to take in each and every one of her features.

Her pulse immediately quickened as a flash of memories flooded her brain, hot and painful memories she’d spent the past fifteen years trying to forget. The flicker of a kerosene lantern...the pain and then the pleasure of Beau. Finally, the utter heartbreak that had left her scarred forever.

“I didn’t know you were out.” She finally found her voice.

He walked over to the chair before her desk and sat. He exuded a tightly controlled energy that was both compelling and more than a little bit off-putting. “I got out this morning and got to Black Bayou about an hour ago.”

“Why are you here, Beau?” She was grateful her voice was cool and calm, not reflecting the hundreds of emotions that roared through her.

His lips curved into a sardonic grin as his heated gaze swept over her. “I know how the last fifteen years have treated me. I was curious to see how they’d treated you and I must say, ma chérie, they have treated you very well. You are more beautiful than I thought you

 would be, even more beautiful than I dreamed about. Did you ever think of me while I was away?”

“No...never,” she snapped quickly. His wicked grin let her know he didn’t believe her. “What are you really doing here? What do you want, Beau?”

The smile disappeared and once again there was a flash of pain...of something bitter in the depths of his eyes. The emotions were only there a moment and then disappeared as his eyes went as dark and enigmatic as the swamp waters. “I want you to help me reinvestigate the murder that sent me away.”

She stared at him in stunned surprise. “Beau, you were convicted and you’ve now served your sentence. Why stir it all up again?” The last thing she wanted was to go back to that place and time when he’d ripped the very heart...the very soul, out of her.

He leaned forward, his gaze so dark, so intense, it threatened to swallow her up whole. “I was innocent when I was convicted, and I’m innocent as I sit here today. We need to find something that will overturn my conviction, something that will prove my innocence to everyone.”

He sat back in the chair. “I need you, Peyton. I don’t have much money, but looking at the outside of this building I thought maybe we could barter. I’ll do the work on your office in exchange for you helping me to investigate the crime that wrongly put me in prison.”

“Beau, this whole thing is absurd,” she said.

“It’s not absurd. It’s a matter of my honor...my reputation. This is about my life, Peyton.” The words exploded out of him with a passionate force. He drew in several deep breaths before continuing. “I need this, Peyton. I need you.”

“And I need some time to think about all this, Beau,” she finally said.

“How much time?”

“I’ll let you know my decision sometime tomorrow afternoon.”

He stood. “This is important, Peyton. Fifteen years ago a murderer got away with his crime, and that murderer is probably still walking the streets of Black Bayou.”

He didn’t wait for her reply. He turned and left the office, taking most of the energy in the room with him. Peyton released a shuddery sigh, still shocked by what had just happened.

At that moment Kylie came back into her office and sank down in the chair Beau had just vacated. “So who was that hunky guy?”

“Beau Boudreau.”

Kylie frowned. “Why does that name sound so familiar to me?”

“Fifteen years ago he was charged and convicted in the murder of Lacy Dupree, a young woman who was working as a sex worker out of the motel. Apparently, he just got out of prison earlier today.” Once again, a rush of emotions tried to gut Peyton.

“Oh yeah, I remember my mom telling me about it when she was warning me about men. So what does he want from you?”

“He wants me to help him reinvestigate the original crime in order to prove his innocence.”

“Hmm... I smell money coming in,” Kylie said.

“Well, don’t. He wants to barter with me. For my help, he’ll do the renovations on this building.”

“Is he capable of

that kind of work?” Kylie asked curiously.

Peyton nodded. “Before his conviction, he and Jack Fontenot were partners in creating a construction company. Beau definitely knows his way around all areas of carpentry.” It felt odd, talking about Beau when his name hadn’t left her lips for so many years.

“I think I’m going to close up shop early today,” she said.

“That’s right. You have a hot dinner date to get ready for,” Kylie replied.

Peyton laughed. “I’m not sure how hot it’s going to be, but I’m definitely ready to call it a day, so you’re free to leave as well.”

Kylie sprang up from her chair. “Then I’m getting out of here before you change your mind.”

Minutes later Kylie was gone, the office door locked, but Peyton remained in her chair as thoughts of Beau swirled around her head.

There had been a time when she’d thought Beau was her future, when she had believed they would be together forever. Her love for him had been fever pitched and all-consuming until the night he’d been arrested for murder.

On that night, after hearing all the ugly details of the crime, her love for him had turned to hatred. She’d recognized him then as not only a heartbreaker, but also the thief of her innocence and the stealer of her dreams.

With his sinful dark eyes and whispered words of love, he’d fooled her completely. She now realized she’d never really recovered from the betrayal.

She finally got up from her chair, grabbed her purse and headed out the front door. She gulped in the hot, sultry air and realized she hadn’t drawn a normal breath since Beau had stepped into her office.

She’d told him she’d give him an answer tomorrow, but right now in this moment she didn’t know what her answer would be. Could she really go back in time and work with him without losing her very soul?

It would certainly be difficult, especially given the fact that for the past fifteen years in the murder of Lacy Dupree, she’d believed he was guilty as sin.

---

BEAU RAN THROUGH the swamp, the humid, junglelike air clinging to him like a second skin. Freedom. It sang through his veins as the familiar scents of home filled his nose.

Despite the many years away, his feet remembered exactly where to step and when to jump to avoid the alligator-infested water. He’d spent the past fifteen years dreaming of being back here...back home.

He ducked under the Spanish moss that hung from the trees. Insects clicked and whirred, and animals scurried through the thick underbrush as if to protest his presence.

The swamp was in his blood, as was the woman he’d just left. Peyton. All his muscles tightened just thinking about her. And he’d had years to think about her, to remember the scent and taste of her skin, the slide of her nakedness against his and the sweet rapture of making love

to her.

She’d been a sweet innocent, something clean and good in his miserable, ugly life. He’d met her when she’d been ten and he’d been thirteen. She’d been sitting on a fallen log deep in the swamp and she was crying.

She’d told him she had run away from home because her parents didn’t care about her. All they cared about was the fancy parties they attended. Her plan had been to live in the swamp, but darkness had begun to fall and she was afraid and hopelessly lost.

They had talked for about fifteen minutes and then he had taken her by the hand, led her out of the swamp and walked her home. That had been the beginning of their friendship, a friendship that had blossomed into something deeper...something much hotter as they’d grown up.

For a little over four months they’d been lovers, and memories of those moments when he’d held her in his arms, when his mouth had plied hers with fiery intent, were what had gotten him through the past fifteen years of prison hell.

However, that had been a long time ago and he had no idea what kind of woman she’d become. The only things he knew about her were that she hadn’t married and she’d become a criminal defense attorney. He’d learned those things from the one woman who had believed in his innocence, a person who had written to him regularly while he’d been in the slammer.

Marie Boujoulais had escaped the swamp years ago when she’d opened up the Black Bayou Café. Beau’s mother had abandoned him when he’d been five years old, leaving Beau to be raised by his cruel alcoholic father. When Beau was ten, Marie had caught him sneaking into her kitchen to steal food.

Rather than shooing him away, she’d sat him at a table and fed him, forming a bond that had lasted through the years. She was the mother he’d never had, the woman who had civilized the little swamp rat he was quickly becoming without any adult guidance.

He’d go see Marie later this evening. What he wanted now was to be home in the three-room shanty where he’d been living with his father before his life had been ripped away from him.

As he got closer, he quickened his pace. Then he saw it...home. The shanty, which was on poles to elevate it over the dark swamp water, was more weatherworn than it had been when he’d left. His footsteps clattered on the wooden bridge that led to the front door.

“Dad!” he yelled as he walked in. The entire place resonated with a yawning emptiness. Dust covered the tabletops and the top of the small potbellied stove that was used for both heating and cooking. It appeared that nobody had been inside the place for years.

He opened the door of his father’s bedroom, half expecting his dad to be passed out among the filthy sheets. But nobody was inside the room.

He then went across the plank floor and opened his bedroom door. The room had been ransacked. Clothes were tossed out of the dresser drawers and the small closet. The bedding had been ripped off and

had a home on the floor.

There was no way he believed this was the work of a thief. He was sure his father was the culprit. If he was to guess, the day his father realized Beau wasn’t coming home anytime soon, ...