by BJ Bourg
Shadows were growing longer now and darkness was beginning to fall, so she grabbed her flashlight. She cursed when a mosquito buzzed around her ear.
“I’m not playing that game again,” she said with a grunt. She popped the trunk open and grabbed a can of mosquito repellent. After sucking in her lips and closing her eyes, she sprayed herself down with the protective mist. Satisfied, she tossed the can in her trunk and headed for the grassy field.
Beverly had been right—the field was extremely overgrown. The grass was at least five feet tall in places. Amy strolled along the edge of the field, scanning the wall of grass as she worked her way south. She had gone about fifty paces when she saw a distinct set of car tracks cutting through the grass. No tread patterns were discernible, but it was clear that a car had been through here.
Wishing she’d worn a long-sleeved shirt, Amy began pushing her way through the grass. She was careful to remain off to one side of the tracks so as not to destroy any evidence that might be present. She grumbled to herself when gnats began to buzz about her face. There was one thing she’d learned about mosquito spray in all of her time in Louisiana—even 100% deet didn’t come close to dissuading gnats.
Swatting and blinking away the tiny agitators, Amy followed the trail until it came to an abrupt end. She turned and looked toward the road. To a vehicle traveling fifty to sixty miles per hour past this location, a car parked this deep in the weeds would’ve been invisible. Hell, it seemed to be pure luck that Beverly had seen it. Of course, it would be lucky if it amounted to anything. There was a real possibility that the occupants were a couple of love-struck teenagers hiding from their parents and doing what teenagers do, but she sure hoped for more.
And why hadn’t David Monier mentioned it to anyone? She brushed a gnat from her arm. Maybe he did tell the DA’s office about it and no one thought it was significant. Or maybe he had investigated it and discovered it was a dead end.
It had grown considerably darker now and Amy was forced to use her flashlight to search the area around the pressed grass. There didn’t appear to be anything on the ground where the car had been parked, but she did notice a faint trail leading away from the area. It was difficult to make out, and she couldn’t be positive it was an actual trail, but whatever it was came to an end when she reached a patch of woods.
Amy looked around to get her bearings. She suddenly realized she was now far enough away from the highway to be near the Plant residence. If she was correct, a short trek through the woods would take her right up to the property line.
Wondering if Beverly’s father-in-law owned the wooded land also, she set out through the trees. She had to watch her footing. There were lots of exposed roots and broken branches to avoid, as well as low-lying trees that slapped at her face, so the going was slow. Finally, when she had travelled a hundred yards or so, there was a break in the trees and she could see lights glowing in the distance.
“The Plant mansion,” she said aloud as she stared across a manicured yard that would’ve given any golf course a run for its money. A brick and wrought iron fence wrapped the property in a warm embrace, but it was only five feet high. Kim’s attacker could’ve easily scaled it.
Amy scanned the back of the house and noted the location of the rear-facing security cameras. From her vantage point, she could see at least three blind alleys through which an individual might approach the house unobserved, and she guessed this was how Kim’s attacker approached without being detected.
Walking up and down the fence line, she searched for any clues that might indicate the exact point where the intruder could’ve crossed the fence, but she found nothing. The ground on her side of the fence was hard-packed and grassy, so there was no chance of locating a shoe impression.
Knowing she couldn’t step foot on the Plant property without a warrant, Amy turned and headed back to her cruiser. She swatted at gnats as she walked, cursing like it was her job. She was just reaching the area where the car had been when a gnat the size of a small hummingbird flew right into her left eye.
“Damn it!” Amy’s eyes involuntarily slammed shut and she immediately began clawing at her face and jumping crazily around. Her flashlight flew from her hands in the process, but she didn’t care at the moment. Grunting and cursing, she forced her eyelids apart with her right hand while sweeping her eyeball with her left index finger. She blinked, but the bug was still there. She continued cursing the tiny creature and swept deep into the crevices of her inner lid.
Finally, after several tries, she extricated the gnat from her eye. She blinked, grateful to be rid of the bug, but there was still a great deal of discomfort in her left eye. Her vision was now blurry.
“Where’s my flashlight?” she mumbled, scanning the ground. She suddenly jerked her head to the side and swatted violently as another kamikaze gnat made a mad dash for her eyes. She grumbled and continued searching. She finally located her flashlight in the tall grass about ten feet from the tire tracks. As she bent and snatched the light from the ground, the beam stabbed through the darkness and illuminated a dark object resting even farther in the grass.
Amy felt her brow furrow as she stepped forward to inspect the object. Her eyes widened when she saw that it was a black balaclava—and it had been freshly deposited there. Her heart beating faster, she examined the area immediately around it, but found nothing. She then hurried to her car to retrieve some latex gloves, her camera, and an evidence bag. Once she’d returned to the balaclava, she shot a number of pictures before placing the open bag on the ground next to it. She then eased the mask from its resting place.
Holding the mask over the open bag in case any fibers were dislodged during the movement, she rotated it to look for the front. When she found it, she held it closer to the light. There were only two holes for the eyes, but nothing for the mouth. The two holes were small, which would’ve revealed very little of the attacker’s face.
Amy knew nothing about the mask the attacker wore, but this thing was too fresh not to be the one used in the robbery. After bagging the mask, she called dispatch and had them make a note of her findings in the radio log. She wanted an official record of what she’d found, because it might later be used to impeach David Monier’s investigative findings.
CHAPTER 38
Empyrean Parish Detention Center
The prisoner from the other interview room—I’d heard someone call him Ethan—walked past me, eyeballing me the entire time. A couple of prisoners welcomed him back and someone called out that they had missed him. He seemed to be popular around here.
Once Ethan was on the opposite side of the dorm, I turned toward the young CO named Zack. I’d realized earlier that I wouldn’t be able to talk freely about the case to Amy on one of the community phones, so I was going to try and get my message sent through Shade Rankin.
“Can you call CO Rankin for me?” I asked. “I need to get a message to him.”
Zack reached for his police radio as though he was bored, and made the call. The radio scratched to life and Shade said he would be there shortly.
While waiting, I glanced over my shoulder and saw Ethan take his seat at a round table. There were already four other men at the table. They all regarded him like he was in charge, and they all looked mean. As I watched, Ethan said something and they all looked in my direction. Then someone pulled what looked like a cell phone from inside his jumpsuit and deftly handed it to the man on the far end of the group. Shielded by the others, he began messing with the phone.
I had no clue what was going on, but I knew it wasn’t good. I studied the room, looking for something that I could use as a weapon. I knew if Ethan came at me, he wasn’t coming alone. I would need some kind of equalizer. One-on-one, I’d take on any man in the building, and maybe two of them. However, I was no match for five men with bad intentions.
“Hey, what’s up, inmate?” Shade asked in an official tone when he approached me. “You called for me?”
“Yes, sir,” I sai
d, keeping my voice loud enough so those around me could hear. “I was wondering if I could get a new jumpsuit. This one’s a little snug. It pulls in the crotch.”
He glanced down, hesitated, and then sighed. “Okay, but hurry it up. I’ve got to get back to the SHU.”
When we had walked out into the corridor and the door had shut behind us, he lowered his voice. “What’s up?”
“I need to get a message to Detective Amy Cooke.” I hadn’t committed her number to memory, so I gave him the number to the police department, and then explained that I needed Amy to contact Mallory and get the names of every officer who knew about the iPad. “Tell Amy to find out if Mallory told any of her officers about the case or if any of them overheard us talking about it. Whoever attacked Kim Plant found out about the iPad soon after we did.”
Shade nodded as he glanced down at the number. “And if this Mallory did tell someone, I imagine you’d want the names?”
I thought about it for a moment. “If she can’t get back to you with the names, that’s fine. I can’t do anything with them here. But I do want her to find out if any of them wear a thin blue line wristband and if any of them were unaccounted for yesterday afternoon. I don’t have much to go on here, but if she can find a connection between Ralph Plant and someone who wears a similar wristband, then that very well might be the person who attacked Kim.”
“You’re really innocent, aren’t you?” Shade asked, his eyes studying me. “I had a feeling you might be, but now I’m certain of it.”
“I don’t know if I’d call myself innocent, but I didn’t attack Kim Plant—or any other woman for that matter.” I tugged at the front of my coveralls. “I guess I’d better return with a new set of coveralls, otherwise someone might get suspicious.”
Shade nodded and led me back to the booking room. He handed me a larger pair of coveralls. I quickly changed into them. They were much more comfortable and I could move more freely in them, which would be advantageous if I had to defend myself.
We then made our way back to the dormitory.
“I’ll come find you when I hear back from Detective Cooke,” he said. “Until then, stay away from Ethan Bruce. He’s bad news and I saw the way he was looking at you.”
I nodded, but didn’t tell him that Ethan already knew I was a cop. Instead, I told him I’d be fine and thanked him for his help. “If you ever decide to leave Empyrean Parish, I’m sure we could find a spot for you in Mechant Loup.”
He smiled his thanks and said he’d try to stick it out for a while. He then told me that when he got off at five in the morning, he would be going off shift for two days. He made me memorize his cell phone number.
“If you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to call me collect.” Shade pierced me with his dark eyes. “I mean it. You call me and I’ll make shit happen.”
I thanked him again and slipped through the door.
Shade had barely turned the key in the lock behind me when I noticed Ethan standing over my dorm neighbor, Lane Brady. The four leaf clover tattoo bounced and contorted on his cheek as he tried explaining something to the larger man. If I had to guess what Ethan did for work, I’d say he changed marsh buggy tires—and he did it without any help. The four men with him were beefy and they looked as mean as—or meaner than—he did. One of them had a nasty scar across his forehead that looked like a knife wound. One was shirtless. The smallest of the five had a tattoo that claimed he hated his mom. The last one’s dark face contrasted violently against the pale white of the top portion of his head. I’d seen that style before and knew immediately he was a welder. Many of them worked long days in the sun and while their faces darkened from the exposure, their tight welding caps helped create what amounted to a farmer’s tan, only it happened to be on their heads.
Not one to avoid the dirty work, I walked directly for my bunk. I pushed my way between Knife Wound and Mom Hater without excusing myself and took a seat on my bunk. While my movements seemed casual, I was anything but. I was on high alert and ready to drop the first man who moved on me.
To my surprise, they didn’t say a word. Instead, Ethan told Lane that they would talk again later, and the five men walked off. I was not disillusioned. I knew this was not over by a long shot, and I knew the five of them were by no means intimidated by me.
“What’d Ethan want?” I asked in a disinterested tone.
Lane appeared surprised that I knew the larger man’s name. “He was asking about you.” He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Do y’all know each other?”
“No. What was he asking?”
“He wanted to know your name.”
“What’d you tell him?”
Lane gulped. “I…um, well…”
“It’s okay,” I said with a dismissive wave. “My name’s not a secret.”
“I told them it was Clint,” Lane admitted. “He asked me why you were here and I told him you pulled an armed robbery and shot someone, and that they think the man you shot might die.”
I was confused. “I didn’t shoot anyone.”
“I know, but I figured it might make him think twice before messing with you,” Lane said with a smile. “Most of the guys in here don’t mess with shooters. If you ain’t scared to pull the trigger on a man, then you ain’t scared to cut him or bash his skull in with the leg of a chair.”
“What did he say when you told him that?”
The smile faded from Lane’s face. “He didn’t believe me. He said you’d be in the SHU if you’d just shot someone. He’s right. They would’ve put you in the SHU and waited to see what your attitude was like. If you behaved, then they might let you in the dorm while you waited for your trial.”
The thought of going to trial sent a shiver up my spine. Cases didn’t typically go to trial earlier than a year, and sometimes it took much longer. Would I have this charge hanging over my head for a year? Would my life have to be put on hold while I fought to prove my innocence? And how many other people had David Monier wrongfully arrested? I bristled at the thought and wanted to get my hands on the detective. He was the type of cop the rest of us detested. He made the whole profession look bad.
Lane’s voice broke through my thoughts. “What was that?” I asked.
“I said Ethan wanted to know where you were from, but I told him I didn’t know. Somehow he didn’t think you were from here, and he got this feeling…”
Lane’s eyes focused on something to my right and he let his voice trail off. I turned to see Ethan and his crew huddled together looking down at something that wasn’t visible.
“Finish what you were saying,” I said. “What kind of feeling did Ethan get?”
“I don’t know where he got this from, but he seems to think you’re a…um…well, he thinks you’re a cop.” Lane laughed nervously. “But that can’t be true, right? I mean, what would a cop be doing in here?”
I sighed. I was never one to hide from the truth, so I just came right out and told Lane. “Yeah, I’m a detective with the Mechant Loup Police Department. They shipped me here because they didn’t think anyone would recognize me.”
Lane’s jaw dropped open. “But…then how did Ethan know?”
“The detective who arrested me mentioned it when the doors were open on the interview rooms,” I explained. “Ethan was in the next interview room and overheard him.”
Lane sank into his bunk and wiped a fresh bead of perspiration from his face. “Oh, God, this ain’t good. And he saw me talking to you, so he thinks we’re friends. Whatever happens to you is gonna happen to me now. Oh, no!”
“Calm down. I’ll make sure everyone knows we’re not friends.” I indicated Ethan with a shift of my head. “He was talking to a man in a suit—probably his lawyer. Do you know if he’s got a hearing coming up or something?”
“He just got back in here yesterday and he was supposed to meet his lawyer for a bond hearing, but I heard his lawyer’s dead.” He shrugged. “At least that’s what I overheard. That fellow in th
e suit must be his new lawyer.”
I took a slow breath and exhaled. “What was his lawyer’s name?”
“How should I know? It was a paid attorney from out of town.” Lane waved a hand to indicate the rest of the dorm. “None of us can afford a paid lawyer. We get what the court gives us, and that usually ain’t much. They just try to make us plea to the charge and get a reduced sentence. They don’t care that some of us are innocent or that they keep moving us closer to a habitual offender charge.”
“What are they huddled over?”
“They got a cell phone,” Lane explained. “I think they’re trying to look you up. They’ve done that before to find out the low down on new prisoners. Ethan and his friends were in here for eighteen months and they were running the place until Ethan was released a month ago. That black fellow over there”—Lane indicated an inmate with a nod—“he became top dog when Ethan was gone and things were kinda quiet around here. Now that Ethan’s back, he’s running things again. Even the guards are afraid of him.”
Right at that moment, Ethan looked up from the phone, his eyes burning with rage. He had found something, of this I was certain.
CHAPTER 39
Central Chateau Parish
After leaving the overgrown field, Amy Cooke had left a message with the local state police troop asking that Detective David Monier call her immediately—that it was an emergency—and then she’d begun retracing Clint’s steps at the various gas stations where he’d tried to locate footage of Orrin Cheramie talking to a buddy. All of the attendants had been helpful and she’d been able to view all of the same cameras Clint had viewed, but she was unable to find a single angle that showed a clear image of his left wrist.
When she’d exhausted her efforts there, she had returned to the area of the Plant residence and begun driving up and down the highway looking for homes with surveillance cameras facing the highway. It was getting late now and most normal people were winding down for the evening, but she didn’t care. Even if she woke some of them up, they would just have to get over it. This was an emergency. The sooner she could develop enough evidence to clear Clint, the sooner she could spring him from jail.