Read Blood on the Bayou for Free Online

cup under the Dumpsterwith his shoe. “But a few months ago, major shipments of medical supplies started disappearing from the Gramercy port. Over a hundred thousand dollars of product was lost in July and they’re expecting higher numbers for August. The dock crew said the goods were gone when the boats arrived, but the captains swear they weren’t boarded between Memphis and Gramercy. The supplies had to have been stolen while the dock workers were unloading the cargo for storage until the boats arrived from New Orleans and Galveston.”
    “Those are FCC operatives working out there.” I can’t help being shocked. The dock workers make at least thirty grand a year more than I do, and I make enough to have everything I need and a hundred thousand or so left over to donate to Sweet Haven. Pinching a few designer purses I can understand, but hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of medical supplies? “Those guys are getting paid very, very well.”
    “Maybe not well enough.”
    “Greedy bastards.” I may slack and run late and be on suspension from sample collecting, but at least I don’t steal from the people I’m supposed to be serving.
    Though, really, what would I steal? Vials of swamp water? Fairy corpses? Poop?
    “They’re more than greedy, they’re unexpectedly particular,” Hitch says. “They left the morphine and the Percocet and all the other easy-to-sell script drugs. Instead, they took a few thousand glass hypodermic needles and three cases of fairimilus.”
    “I don’t even know what that is.”
    “It’s a rare cyclic peptide derived from a fungus. It’s used as a serum in some malaria vaccines.” He sounds doctory, but not in the condescending way. This morning, doctor sounds good on Hitch. “It keeps the vaccine fresh longer than synthetic peptides. It’s also being used in the fairy venom vaccine research trials.”
    “Ohhh . . . kay,” I say, connecting the dots. “So they’ve taken a super-rare serum and needles that can hold fairy venom without being corrupted the way metal would.” The notion gives me an unpleasant scratchy feeling in my brain, but I ignore it.
    The Big Man and Tucker deal in drugs and needles, but they’re intensely antigovernment and have a small-time sneaky-criminal vibe. My gut tells me the Invisibles aren’t connected to whatever’s happening at the cave. If they were, Hitch’s friend would have taken pictures of captives fighting someone they couldn’t see as they were dragged away.
    “You said some of the people involved used to work in chemical weapons development?” I ask.
    “Right.”
    “So you’re thinking they’re working on a biological weapon. Using fairy venom.”
    He nods. “If they were working on a vaccine, there’d be no reason to keep it secret.”
    “And you’re thinking someone in the FBI is helping coordinate the operation and keep it off the government’s radar so these people don’t get caught.”
    “That’s exactly what I’m thinking.” His dimple pops, and I find myself grinning back at him. To geekslike us, all this conspiracy talk is practically foreplay.
    The thought makes me take an awkward step back. I pretend I’m checking the back door to Swallows for interlopers as I pull myself together. It’s like Grace said in my dream: Lusting after Hitch is a good way to get burned.
    “Why else would they need the glass needles?” he asks, seemingly oblivious to the way he affects me. “And why else would they set up shop in the middle of the bayou?”
    “Well, it’s isolated, not a lot of cops risk going out there, and those who do are too busy rounding up infected highwayman types to notice people hiding out in a cave. Even the helicopter patrols wouldn’t see them if they’re underground most of the time,” I say, always willing to play the devil’s advocate. “Steven and the Breeze task force were probably the first law enforcement on the ground that far out in the bayou in years. Anyone could be doing