by B J Bourg
“Are you sure? Because I’ve got a statement from someone saying you were drunk and spouting off at the mouth about gold treasure and maps. Think real hard before you answer.” I paused to let my words sink in. “Now, did you or did you not spout off at the mouth about Nathan’s gold treasure?”
He was shaking uncontrollably now. “I…I don’t remember doing that. If I did, I was drunk and didn’t mean anything by it.”
“Did you talk to him last night?”
He was thoughtful. “I might’ve told him hello, but that’s about it. I don’t really talk to people when I go there. I just kind of go there to get some peace and quiet.”
I glanced around the place. It was a cluttered mess. If he couldn’t handle a mess and a pregnant wife, what would he do once they introduced a screaming baby into the equation?
“What about Miguel Garcia—was he at the bar last night?”
The kid shook his head. “He doesn’t come in often.”
“Do you know him?”
“Just a little. His wife was my teacher in middle school.”
“Was he there the night you heard Nathan talking about the gold?”
He nodded. “That’s the last time I remember seeing him there.”
I chewed on the inside of my mouth. After running through different scenarios in my head, I pressed him further, but got nowhere. I was convinced he didn’t know a damn thing, and that frustrated me. I was afraid we were coming upon a dead end—a brick wall—and I was running out of options. My suspect pool had dwindled to nothing, as had my list of potential witnesses.
As I tried to put things together in my head, I imagined a giant puzzle with only the outline completed, and dozens of pieces on the table that belonged to another puzzle. Philip was definitely involved, but there was no way he had killed Nathan, so did that mean he was in cahoots with someone else? And what if Nathan’s murder wasn’t connected to the gold at all?
“Sorry for bothering you,” I muttered, rising to my feet. “I’ll call if I have any more questions.”
I trudged out of the trailer and directly to my Tahoe, hearing the sound of Susan’s boots right behind me. Once I reached my door, I spun to face Chuck. “Listen, damn it, if you killed Nathan Baxter, I need to know it right now.”
He pulled up short and his eyes widened in surprise, but only for a second. Once he was over the surprise, his eyes flashed. He opened his mouth to offer a retort, but then thought better of it and clamped it shut. When he spoke, his voice was reserved. “Clint—is it okay if I call you that?”
I waved a hand dismissively.
“Clint, I have to be honest…I sat in your office for a long time and contemplated walking to the back of your police department and murdering Philip Crenshaw while he sat in that jail cell.” He wiped a bead of sweat from his brow. “The only reason I didn’t was because of a case I worked years ago. I was a young detective and mostly observed the case because I was still in training, but I sat in on interviews with three witnesses who positively fingered a man for murder. He was arrested, convicted, and sentenced to life without benefit.” He paused to take a breath. “Ten years ago he was released when DNA cleared him of any wrongdoing.”
I started to interrupt, to ask what that had to do with our case, but he held up a hand.
“Now, I know wrongful convictions are a rare thing, but I also don’t know much about your case.” He shook his head sadly. “It terrified me to think I might be taking the life of an innocent man, so I decided to sit back and wait. I want to give you a chance to prove who did it. Once you can prove it, then I’ll make my move. I won’t tell you when or where, because I don’t want you spoiling my plan, but I will get the son of a bitch who killed my children—this I swear to you.”
Not for one second did I doubt him.
CHAPTER 38
“Is Melvin ready with the boat?” I asked Susan after we’d piled into my Tahoe and left Tristan’s trailer. “I want him ready to go in case we find a copy of that map.”
“The boat’s fueled up and he’s waiting for us at the office,” she confirmed, as she sat glancing coolly at Chuck in the rearview mirror. She had only squinted and cocked her head to the side when he’d made his threat, and I knew she was wondering if we might have to kill this poor tortured soul.
I was wondering if we should just head out to the island anyway and take our chances, but I knew it was a big island. And what to do about Chuck? The only way I could be sure he wouldn’t kill anyone was to keep him close to me, but I didn’t have time to babysit him, and he might get in my way.
I was still trying to figure out what to do with Chuck when I arrived at the police department. I saw a familiar detective car and indicated it with my head. “Mallory’s here,” I told Susan. “Do you think she found something?”
“I don’t know, but something tells me we’re about to find out.”
Once we’d made our way into the building, we found Mallory in the dispatcher’s station. She held up a flash drive when she saw us. “This is the phone dump and it’s a big file, but there’s one thing you need to see.”
I waved for her to follow me and I led the way to my office. The faxed documents from the crime lab were still on my desk where Susan had placed them. I moved them to a desk drawer for safekeeping and then shook the mouse to wake up my monitor.
Mallory leaned forward and shoved the flash drive into the USB port. “I swear, this guy takes more pictures of his tiny penis than he smokes cigarettes.”
“Please,” I said quickly, “I don’t want to see those.”
“You won’t,” Mallory assured me. “I searched through everything beginning on the day they tore down that shed until yesterday and I found this”—she clicked on an icon and a dark image appeared—“taken late on Christmas Eve.”
I leaned closer, but it was too dark to discern anything in the image. “What is it?”
“Well, at first I thought he’d taken a dick pic in the dark, but then I adjusted the brightness on the image and this happened…”
I sucked in a mouthful of air when she clicked on an image titled: “IMG_9206_adjusted”. There, in the foreground of what appeared to be grass and a badly damaged lock box, was an ancient rawhide skin of some kind of animal with faded scrawling all over it. The drawing was almost indiscernible, especially in the poor lighting, but there was enough present to make out a large body of water that appeared to be shaped like Lake Berg.
“Holy shit,” I said under my breath. “This is it!”
Mallory nodded, her face beaming. “I’ve never seen anything like it. Since you said this might relate to a division of the Chitimacha Tribe, I spoke with Gretchen Verdin and she said she’s familiar with the story.”
Gretchen was a K-9 sergeant with the Chateau Parish Sheriff’s Office. She was three-quarters Chitimacha Indian and my heart jumped with excitement at the news. “So, is there some truth to this?”
“I think so. When I told Gretchen the location of Carl’s home, she said her great uncle, Andy Verdin, used to live in that area and his grandfather was a direct descendant of the Kamakic Tribe and served as chief for a time. She did some discreet digging and found out that the property on which the shed stood used to belong to Mr. Verdin. Somehow, he must’ve gotten his hands on that box and secreted it into the shed wall.”
“How’d Carl Duval end up with the property?”
“According to what Gretchen found out, the bank foreclosed on the land after Andy died and it went up for auction. I guess no one knew about the gold coin, otherwise someone would’ve retrieved it before the place sold.” She indicated the map with her head. “Do you recognize anything on the map?”
I did and I trusted Mallory, but I wanted to play this one so close to the vest that even I wouldn’t be able to see the cards. Instead of lying to her, I ignored her question and posed a question of my own. “Did Gretchen see the map?”
“No. Given the circumstances, I thought it best not to show anyone the map. A
s soon as I’d gone through the files and realized there was no evidence of Nathan’s murder on the phone, I met with our phone guy and instructed him to wipe all of the files from his system. I watched as he did it.” She pulled a cell phone from the file folder she was carrying. It was in a sealed evidence envelope. She handed it to me and pointed toward the flash drive. “This phone and that drive are the only copies. Since the map was found in your jurisdiction, I figured you should get everything I have on it. Lord knows if this gets out, you’re going to have treasure hunters stampeding down here and tearing the place up. I wouldn’t want to be the one responsible for that kind of information leaking.”
I frowned and thanked her as I took the phone. At least we were on the same page, and I knew I could trust her to keep her mouth shut. After considering it for a moment, I asked if she wanted to come along when we headed out to the lake. “Whoever stole the map is either out there now or will be heading there soon,” I said, “and I want to catch them in the act of searching for the gold.”
Mallory nodded. “Sure, I’ll be happy to lend a hand.”
If Mallory came along, that would bring our number to four, unless I could convince Susan to stay behind. Forever in the back of my mind was the United States of America’s common practice of not having the president and vice president travel together, so as to maintain a continuity of government in the event of an incident. Much the same, I didn’t want Susan and me going into a dangerous situation together, because if something went wrong, at least one of us would be left behind to care for Grace.
After agreeing to meet back at the police department early in the morning, Mallory left. I moved my face close to the computer monitor and began studying the map carefully. I wanted to memorize every little detail so I wouldn’t have to bring anything out on the water with me. I wanted this thing buried as deep as possible after the murderers were caught. If this got out, greedy people would come to our town, and with them, there would be trouble.
Susan and Chuck ambled into my office an hour later, and Susan asked if I was ready to turn in for the night. I rubbed my tired eyes and nodded. I secured the flash drive and cell phone in my safe and then followed them out the door.
Once we turned down our street, I continued to the back to set Chuck up in a room at the empty women’s shelter. Meanwhile, Susan went inside our house to relieve her mother. I took my time driving back to the house after Chuck was situated, because I was dreading the conversation I was about to have with Susan. She was never one to back down from a fight, and I knew it would be hard to convince her to sit this one out.
CHAPTER 39
It was four-thirty when my alarm went off the next morning. Surprisingly, Susan had agreed to remain behind without much of a fuss. She understood the job well and she saw the wisdom in not risking both of our lives at the same time. It had also been her idea for me to leave early in the morning. It had sounded good last night, but now, half asleep and groggy, I only wanted to hit the snooze button and go back to sleep.
“You’ll get a head start on the day and be gone before Chuck realizes what happened,” she had said while preparing for bed last night.
“What’ll you do with him?” I’d asked.
“I’ll take him to the office and keep him occupied while you’re searching for the killers,” she had explained. “I’ll also call and find out if the trace on the murder weapon is complete.”
I groaned when Susan put a cold hand on my back and told me to shut off the alarm. With my eyes half closed, I rolled from the bed and quickly dressed for the day. Not wanting to tip off the killers, I decided to wear jeans, a T-shirt, and a baseball cap, and tucked my pistol inside my belt.
Melvin, who was always where he was supposed to be when he was supposed to be there, was probably already at the boat launch waiting for me. I grabbed a banana and refilled the water bowls for Achilles and Coco, who were in the back yard chilling out in the cool morning air. When I’d first stepped out, Achilles had rushed over and sat at my feet, staring up like he’d done something wrong. Too tired to try and figure it out, I’d only rubbed his head and told him to be good.
After kissing Grace’s forehead and grabbing my AR-15 from the gun safe, I slipped into my Tahoe and headed for the boat launch. Although I was five minutes early, I was still late according to Melvin’s standards. He’d already launched the boat and was just slipping his rifle bag between two of the passenger seats.
I greeted him and loaded my own gear on the floor of the boat. I indicated the aluminum flat boat with my head. There were three rows of two swivel seats positioned side-by-side. “Whose boat is it?”
“I borrowed it from one of the swamp tours,” he explained. “I figured we’ll need the element of surprise, so I didn’t want to pull up to the island with lights and decals all over the boat. It also has a four-stroke outboard motor that’s a whisper on the water, so we should be able to glide up to the island with minimal noise.”
I smiled, but it faded quickly as my mind wandered to the day ahead. While trying to sleep last night, a new theory had begun to form in my mind, and it disturbed me deeply.
Melvin and I looked up when a Dodge Charger roared into the shell parking area of the boat launch. It parked near a tree and Mallory stepped out wearing snug-fitting jeans and a sweatshirt. I could see a bulge where her pistol was concealed under her shirt, and she dragged a pump-action shotgun from the back seat.
When she drew nearer to where Melvin and I stood under a lamppost waiting, I could see that her jaw was set, making her chiseled facial features even more distinguished.
“Morning,” I said.
She nodded, glanced from me to Melvin and then back to me. “When we find the killer or killers, what’re we going to do?”
The question was direct. I knew what she was asking and I was positive Melvin knew it, too. I waited a long moment before answering. There was a conflict raging inside of me. On one hand, there was the cop side of me, which said everything had to be handled legally and by the book—that it was the only way. And then there was the human side of me, which said someone had to pay for what had happened to those poor children and their parents and grandmother.
“We’re going to do our jobs,” I finally said, with more confidence than I felt. “No more and no less.”
She took a deep breath and then let out a long sigh. “Okay, I’m with you.”
I watched her place her shotgun on the floorboard and plop down in one of the seats. Melvin and I traded glances and then we boarded the boat after her.
CHAPTER 40
A cool breeze was blowing in from the southeast, but it did little to clear the thick fog that had settled over the surface of the lake. Melvin had traveled without lights, so it had taken a couple of hours for us to reach the western end of the lake where the island in question was supposed to be located.
“Where is it?” Mallory asked in a low whisper, leaning close so she didn’t have to raise her voice.
I peered ahead, trying to penetrate the white fog. “It should be close.”
Melvin nodded and pointed to the left. I shifted in my seat and, through the blanket of mist, saw a dark shadow rising up from the water. I had seen the island from a distance but never up close, and I’d never stepped foot on it. From what I’d been told by some old timers, no one ventured onto the island anymore, because it was overgrown with ancient oak trees and thick underbrush and infested with water moccasins and rattlesnakes.
“It’s a thirty-two-acre death trap, is what that is,” Dexter Boudreaux had once told me when we rode by in his boat. “You can’t go two steps without getting rattlesnake fangs in your ass. And if the snakes don’t get you, the alligators will.”
I frowned, remembering how much I’d learned from Dexter. I sure wished he was still around to lead this search party. If there ever was a man who knew how to survive in the swamps, it was him.
None of us spoke as Melvin shut off the engine and allowed the boat to drift closer to t
he land. The trees were tall and thick and loomed ominously overhead. A low-lying branch reached out for us and Melvin grabbed hold of it and slowed the boat to a stop. We all listened intently. Our heads were on swivels and our eyes sharp.
“Is this the area?” Melvin asked in a whisper of a voice.
I nodded, remembering every detail of the map. I had described the area to Melvin on the ride over, and he had easily found it. At this point, we were supposed to get out and walk to the midway point across the island to a place where three trees grew together, making a sizeable triangle. A roughly defined X was positioned at the center of the three trees, and I was guessing this was where the treasure was buried. Although the map seemed plain enough, it was hard to distinguish one tree from another, and I was pretty sure there were more than a few dozen triangle patterns among the thirty-two acres.
I also knew the landscape had changed a lot over the past few hundred years. Hell, every hurricane that blew through here seemed to rearrange the natural furniture a bit, so even if the treasure was still buried out here somewhere, the landmarks on the map were probably no longer valid.
“It looks like we beat them here,” I whispered, to which Mallory and Melvin only nodded. Somewhere in the mist behind us, an alligator snorted and I thought I detected a shiver from Mallory. “Is there a place where we can hide the boat?”
Melvin silently scanned what we could see of the island’s banks. It looked spooky as all hell, and I could tell he wasn’t eager to go ashore. Hell, neither was I, but I knew we had to.
After a few minutes of scanning the banks and weighing his options, he finally pointed farther west, to where two fallen trees had formed a leafy cove. “We could conceal the boat between those downed trees and go ashore there,” he said, speaking barely over a whisper. “If we hunker down and listen, we should be able to hear them coming. Hell, it’s so quiet right now that we could hear a mosquito fart.”