Joanna Wayne

Alligator Moon


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      Praise for

      JOANNA WAYNE

      “Joanna Wayne masterfully weaves a story

       of dark secrets and unforgettable evil.”

      —USA TODAY bestselling author Karen Young

       on Alligator Moon

      “Lose yourself and your heart in the sultry

       Cajun setting Joanna Wayne brings to life in Alligator Moon.”

      —reader favorite Judy Christenberry

      “Wayne creates compelling relationships and

       intricately plotted suspense that will keep readers guessing in this page-turning, heart-pounding read.”

      —Romantic Times on Harlequin Intrigue novel

       Attempted Matrimony

      Dear Reader,

      Welcome to the sultry world of south Louisiana. As a lifelong Louisiana resident, I’ve always loved the romance and mystery associated with the bayou country and have been fascinated with the lore of the Cajun people. That’s why when I got the idea for Alligator Moon, I knew I had to write the book. It’s more than a story of suspense and romance—it’s a journey into a world where alligators slither through murky bayou waters and passion rules the hearts and minds of the citizens.

      This is John Robicheaux and Cassie Havelin’s story, but it’s much more than that. It’s also the story of how decent people can become so caught up in a diabolical lie that it destroys them. But mostly it’s a story of suspense that entangles the hero and heroine until they are forced to open old wounds and give themselves a chance to love again.

      I love to hear from readers. Please visit my Web site at www.joannawayne.com. Or drop me a line at [email protected]. Let me know if you’d like to receive my electronic newsletter.

      Happy reading,

      Alligator Moon

      Joanna Wayne

      

www.millsandboon.co.uk

      JOANNA WAYNE

      is a multipublished, award-winning, bestselling author known for her cutting-edge romantic suspense. She lives with her husband just outside the steamy, sultry city of New Orleans, Louisiana, near the bayou country that was the inspiration and setting for Alligator Moon. A narrow bayou runs behind her house and most afternoons you can find her on the back patio, a glass of iced tea in hand, her fingers typing away on her laptop computer, enjoying the ducks, turtles, egrets and various other wildlife that share her domain. On rare occasions an alligator has even been spotted swimming by.

      Joanna has always been an avid reader and she claims that writing her novels of romantic suspense was a natural progression from reading them. Not only is the writing exciting and rewarding, but also she loves the research. In the process of gathering material for her novels, she has rounded up cattle by helicopter, gone on trips deep into humid swamps, walked deserted beaches in the moonlight, visited morgues, looked through gritty crime-scene photos and visited FBI headquarters. And those are just a few of her research adventures.

      Writing is more of a passion than a job for Joanna. She loves nothing more than taking a hero and heroine from breath-stealing danger to happily-ever-after. Who could complain about a day like that?

      CONTENTS

      PROLOGUE

      CHAPTER ONE

      CHAPTER TWO

      CHAPTER THREE

      CHAPTER FOUR

      CHAPTER FIVE

      CHAPTER SIX

      CHAPTER SEVEN

      CHAPTER EIGHT

      CHAPTER NINE

      CHAPTER TEN

      CHAPTER ELEVEN

      CHAPTER TWELVE

      CHAPTER THIRTEEN

      CHAPTER FOURTEEN

      CHAPTER FIFTEEN

      CHAPTER SIXTEEN

      CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

      CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

      CHAPTER NINETEEN

      CHAPTER TWENTY

      EPILOGUE

       PROLOGUE

      DENNIS ROBICHEAUX gave the propofol thirty seconds to work, then leaned over the patient. “Can you hear me, Mrs. Flanders?”

      “Is she fully under?” Angela Dubuisson asked, not looking up from the instruments she was readying for the surgeon.

      “Yeah. They can’t resist my French kiss.”

      “Are we still talking about patients?”

      “Now, boo, you know you can’t believe all that trash they talk by Suzette’s.”

      “That’s not a problem since I don’t hang out in smoky bars that smell like crawfish and grease.”

      “You don’t know what you’re missing.”

      “Sure I do. A bunch of drunks looking for an easy lay.”

      Dennis fit the endotracheal tube down the patient’s throat, slowly, easing it past the relaxed muscles, the task almost second nature to him now.

      Angela pulled the blanket over the patient. “How’s she doing?”

      “All that’s left is to hook her up to Big Blue,” he said, nodding toward the anesthetic machine. Dennis finished sealing the tube so that the patient wouldn’t choke on her own saliva. “Down for the count. Where’s our surgeon and his faithful nurse?”

      As if on cue, the door to the operating room swung open and Dr. Norman Guilliot strode in, his hands still dripping from the sanitizing scrub. Angela became far more animated now that the self-proclaimed king of scalpel makeovers had appeared. She handed him a towel, then helped him into his gown and gloves. Susan Dalton was a step behind the doctor, her blue eyes dancing above her surgery mask.

      “Got Ms. Ginny Lynn all ready for you, Doc,” Dennis announced.

      Dr. Guilliot leaned over the patient and pinched the excess skin beneath her chin, pulling it tight. “In for the works, isn’t she?”

      “Eyelid, face and forehead lift.”

      “Must have a sentimental attachment to the nose,” Dennis said.

      “She just wants to look her best for the glory of God,” Guilliot said, mimicking the patient as he ran a finger under the delicate eye area. Ginny Lynn was the wife of the Reverend Evan Flanders, a TV evangelist who’d become a household word in the New Orleans area.

      Dr. Guilliot lifted the fatty tissue above the lid, pinching and pulling it away from the eye before beginning the delicate task of marking his incision lines in blue.

      Dennis monitored his machine. “Want me to make the initial incision for you, Doc, since Fellowship Freddie’s off on his minivacation?”

      “No, just stick to giving your Versed cocktails to the patient. The surgery has to be a work of perfection. We can’t have any scars showing when she goes back under the bright glare of fame.”

      “I doubt Frankenstein’s scars would show beneath the makeup she wears,” Susan said.

      “Careful,”