by B J Bourg
“Stop, or I’ll shoot!” I heard Mallory cry from somewhere behind me, just as the other boat’s engine roared and began to fade away. No shot followed, and I knew the boat must’ve been out of sight by now. Cops are trained to only shoot at what they can identify, and Mallory was a well-disciplined officer.
When I reached Dixie, I grasped a hold of the front of her shirt and spun her around. She reached for me and tried to grab me by the hair, but I spun her roughly around and hooked my right arm under both of her armpits, pulling her close.
“I’ve got you,” I said between gasps, spitting out swamp water as I kicked with my feet. She had stopped struggling, but was still at least 115 pounds of dead weight and I had to work overtime just to stay afloat. I also wasted precious energy turning my head from side to side searching for hungry alligators. “You’re going to be okay.”
“He was going to kill me,” Dixie wailed, choking on water and coughing forcefully. “He…he was taking me out here to kill me.”
I was curious and wanted to know more, but I dared not ask any questions or speak at all. It would take up too much of my energy and I already felt the strength in my legs waning. Melvin had just navigated the boat around the end of the fallen tree and had gunned the engine, but I didn’t know if I could stay afloat until he reached us. I felt the bottom of the lake falling out from under me and I was swallowing more water than I liked.
The boat was still about ten feet away when I felt something wet and snakelike fall across my face and shoulder. A rope!
“Grab the rope,” Mallory called from the bow of the swamp tour boat. “I’ll pull you in!”
Grateful, I hooked my hand over the rope and held on for dear life. Through the droplets of water that sprayed my face, I saw the slender muscles in Mallory’s arms flex and relax as she pulled hand-over-hand, reeling the rope in and drawing me and Dixie closer to the boat with each tug. When we had reached the boat, I looked up and saw Melvin’s wide face leaning over the edge beside Mallory. He helped Mallory pull Dixie off of me and out of the water. I grabbed onto the edge of the boat and paused for a moment, trying to catch my breath.
I hadn’t taken two good breaths when something splashed behind me. I didn’t know what it was, but the sound—and the thought of an alligator approaching from behind—lit a fire under my ass. Within a split second, I was out of the water and over the edge, not even sure how I’d managed to do it so quickly.
Without waiting to see if we were okay, Melvin hurried to the engine and grabbed the till. With the twist of his wrist, the engine roared, the boat shot forward, and we were in pursuit.
As the front of the boat rose and fell rhythmically, Melvin hollered over his shoulder for Mallory to keep an eye out for any signs of the other boat. The fog hadn’t burned off yet, but visibility seemed to be improving with every passing minute. Thankfully, Dennis’ boat had cut an obvious path through the lily pads and Melvin was following the trail like a bloodhound on a scent.
I turned my attention to Dixie, who lay sprawled on the floor of the boat, breathless and pale. “What’d you mean when you said he was bringing you out here to kill you?”
“He…he’s after the gold,” she said through gasps of air. “He took me with him because I’m the only one who knows what he did. I swore I’d never tell, but he didn’t believe me. He told me he’d kill me…and anyone else who tries to get between him and the gold.”
“Does he have the map?” I helped Dixie to a seated position in one of the chairs.
She nodded, squeezed her eyes shut. “He told me he tortured that poor kid…that Nathan boy. He said he made Nathan tell him where the map was and then he went and found it. He wants that gold, detective, and he won’t let anyone stop him.”
I studied Dixie’s face. Tears flowed freely down her red cheeks and her bloodshot eyes were desperate.
“I know too much,” she wailed. “If you let him get away, he’ll kill me! You have to stop him!”
I looked in the direction we were heading. I could still see a faint trail through the lily pads. I turned back to Dixie. “Did he kill Carl Duval and his family?”
“It’s all my fault!” She squeezed her eyes shut and turned away, crying uncontrollably. She didn’t speak for a long moment, but she nodded her head up and down vigorously. When she had composed herself somewhat, she opened her eyes and let out a long and quivering sigh. “I’m the one who told him about the treasure. I told him Nathan and Philip were talking about finding a treasure map and gold in somebody’s shed. I’m the one who started it all. I should’ve kept my mouth shut. I swear, I didn’t mean for any of this to—”
“Look, there’s the boat!” Melvin suddenly hollered, killing the engine instantly, allowing the boat to coast to a stop.
I jumped to my feet and the boat rocked. I moved closer to the front, where Mallory and Melvin were staring intently ahead. Dennis’ boat had been run aground on the northern end of the island in an area where the land formed a V, and he was nowhere to be seen. The trees were thick along the banks. From our vantage point, we couldn’t see more than a few feet into the dense forest.
“Get down,” I hissed to Dixie as we all stood staring, rocking gently with the swaying of the boat. I reached between two of the seats and retrieved my AR-15 rifle, shouldered it. As I scanned the tree line, I asked Dixie what kind of weapons Dennis had in his possession.
“Um, he has a pistol—it’s an old one he got from his dad a long time ago—and he’s got a big hunting knife.” She was cowering between a row of seats and she stared up at me with wide eyes. “Can’t we just get out of here? I’m scared. He…he’s not stable. He’s dangerous. I’ve never seen him so crazy.”
Not taking my eyes off of the tree line, I called over my shoulder, “Someone’s got to stay here with Dixie and someone’s got to go track down Dennis. Melvin, you’re the best tracker in the department. Will you do the honors?”
“I’d love to.”
“I’ll stay with Dixie,” Mallory volunteered. “I don’t mind a fight, but I hate snakes. If Dennis tries to come after Dixie, I’ll take care of him.”
I knew without asking that Mallory could drive a boat—hell, everyone in southeast Louisiana over the age of five could drive a boat—and I suggested she back the boat to the middle of the lake once we were gone. “It’ll keep you out of pistol range and Dennis won’t be able to ambush you out in the middle of the lake.”
As I kept my rifle trained on the shoreline, Mallory and Melvin traded places and Mallory backed the boat to the eastern point of the V. Melvin and I quickly dismounted and merged into the jungle-like forest. We could no longer see Dennis’ boat and would have to work our way into position to pick up his tracks. I hesitated a moment, watching as Mallory backed the boat toward the center of the lake, where the fog had finally burned off and the sun was shining brightly.
“You ready, Clint?” Melvin asked when I turned to face the jungle.
I nodded, welcoming his expertise at tracking and the extra firepower. In a game of hide-and-seek with guns, the one doing the hiding always had the upper hand. I would need as much help as possible to come out of this alive.
CHAPTER 44
The sun was high in the sky by the time Melvin and I reached Dennis’ boat and began hunting him. I wasn’t a skilled man tracker, but a novice could’ve followed the path Dennis left behind. Tall weeds were pushed down in large clumps, branches had been snapped all along the trail, and pieces of fabric had even been left behind by his clothing.
Melvin and I worked from a position that was parallel to Dennis’ track and to the left of it. We didn’t want to walk directly down the path he had taken, just in case he planned on ambushing us. The going was slow, because we were trying to move with stealth, and that was almost impossible given the dense foliage we had to traverse. Occasionally, we’d come upon patches of barren ground under large oak trees, but we had to be careful not to crackle the dry leaves that blanketed the ground.
; We had probably traveled a hundred painstaking feet when Melvin stopped abruptly and lifted a hand. He put a finger to his ear to indicate he’d heard something. I froze in place and listened. Nothing stirred and there were no sounds other than mosquitoes buzzing around my ears. The birds weren’t even singing anymore.
After a long moment of silence, I heard the sound. Melvin pointed toward our left and I nodded. It was a rhythmic chopping sound, and I realized quickly that it was the blade of a shovel striking dirt. Dennis was digging for the treasure!
If he was preoccupied with his search, then the element of surprise might be on our side. It had taken us so long to reach the boat and then get to this point that Dennis was probably thinking he’d gotten away clean.
We couldn’t pinpoint the exact location of the shovel chops, but it was somewhere to the left. I motioned to Melvin to let him know we should split up and approach the location from two sides, just in case Dennis decided to cut and run. Melvin nodded and signaled that he would go wide to the left, and I signaled that I would go wide to the right.
I had to admit to myself that I felt a little uneasy when we parted ways. I moved even slower than we had been moving all day, trying to remember everything I’d ever learned from Melvin and Gretchen Verdin about moving stealthily through the swamps. It was hard to keep from making a sound while also studying my surroundings for bad guys. My only consolation was that it would be hard for Dennis to take a sniper shot on us, because the trees were too plentiful and thick.
It felt as though I was only a dozen or so feet away from the chopping sound when it suddenly stopped. I instantly squatted to my knees, cursing silently when my sore left knee popped. For a long moment I waited. There was no other sound except for the beating of my own heart. Where was Melvin? Had he captured Dennis? I knew that couldn’t be the case, because I would’ve heard some violent rustling sounds or voices.
Time ticked slowly by as I waited and listened. I was in the thick shade, but the warmth from the afternoon sun bled through the leaves and enveloped me. A bead of sweat dropped to the leaves at my feet and I actually heard the tiny splash. It sounded loud in the eerie stillness that surrounded me.
I was about to rise to my feet when I caught movement in the corner of my right eye. It was a little behind me and seemed very low to the ground. My grip tightened on the AR-15. I was in a bad spot, and I knew it. It would take too long for me to spin around and get off a shot if that movement I saw presented a threat. Moving my head as slowly as I could so as not to attract attention, I turned to see what was moving toward me.
I wanted to gasp out loud when I saw what was slinking across the ground toward me, but I somehow managed to suppress the sound. Curving around a tree and disappearing into the brush a few feet away was the biggest snake I’d ever seen. The part of the body that was in view was at least eight feet long and it was thicker that my upper thigh. I recognized right away that it was a Burmese python. As I watched it slither around the tree and out of sight, I tried to calculate the length of the monster snake, but it was difficult. At a minimum, it had to be over fifteen feet in length. I couldn’t see where the snake’s head was going, but when the tail finally appeared and then disappeared, I decided it was time to move away from the area. I didn’t wish to have a disagreement with that big fellow.
I rose slowly to my feet and eased my right foot back until I had moved it a full step. I placed it gently toward the ground, careful not to snap any twigs that might be underfoot. I then slowly brought my left foot back. I continued moving in that fashion until I was sure I had created enough distance between myself and the snake. I then began circling toward where I had last heard the sound of the shovel stabbing at the ground.
Although my AR-15 was short, I found it difficult to maneuver between the crowded trees. Occasionally, my boot or the butt of my rifle would brush against a tree trunk and I’d have to stop to see if it had attracted any attention. So far, it seemed as though I’d made my way undetected.
As I moved, I began to grow worried. Where was Melvin? Why hadn’t I heard anything from him or Dennis? Had Dennis doubled back to the boat? Had he attacked Melvin and taken him out stealthily, like a ninja? And where in the hell was that giant snake?
I was still wondering these things when I stepped out from behind a tree and stopped short, my heart stuck in my throat. A few feet in front of me, resting on the ground in a small clearing, was a dirty shovel with a long wooden handle. I could see a hole at the center of the clearing. A wall of soft mud was stacked all around the hole. A bucket was nearby and turned upside down, and an axe was leaning against a nearby Cypress tree.
As I studied the items in the clearing, I wasn’t one bit disturbed by what I saw. Instead, I was disturbed by what I didn’t see—Dennis Carville. Where could he be?
I looked over my shoulder, studying the woods behind me. Nothing moved. I turned slowly back toward the hole and a chill suddenly reverberated up and down my spine when I realized the axe was gone!
I broke out in a sweat as I remembered being a young boy and my grandpa telling me a chill up and down my spine meant someone had just walked over my grave. That memory caused my nostrils to flare and my senses to go on high alert. Was I about to die? Did Dennis hold some advantage over me? Had I blindly stumbled into his trap and—?
“Clint, get down now!” screamed a voice from the thick trees somewhere to my left.
CHAPTER 45
Mallory Tuttle shaded her eyes from the sun and scanned the banks of the small island for the umpteenth time. It had been over an hour since she’d seen the jungle-like forest swallow up Melvin and Clint, and she was worried something terrible had happened to them. If so, what was she to do? She was no tracker. She hated the swamps. She preferred the city over the marshlands and would rather shoot it out with three criminals at high noon on a dusty street than chase one bad guy through the snake-infested swamps.
As she considered her options and tried to decide if she should risk going ashore with Dixie, one thing became clear—she needed to create a record in the event none of them made it back to town. Hunkering down in a chair directly in front of Dixie, she pulled out her cell phone and activated the built-in recording device.
“For the record,” she began, speaking into the phone, “I am Detective Mallory Tuttle and I will be obtaining a recorded statement from Dixie Boudreaux. This statement is relative to the murders of the Duval family that occurred exactly one week ago.” Mallory paused and regarded the confused expression on Dixie’s face blankly. “Mrs. Boudreaux, go ahead and state your name and date of birth for the benefit of the record.”
Dixie hesitated, but Mallory nodded to reassure her, so she provided the information.
“Next, I want you to begin by telling me how this whole thing happened.” Mallory glanced toward the banks of the island. “And you need to hurry, because I don’t know how much time we have.”
Dixie’s face turned a few shades lighter than it had been. “What do you mean? We’re not going on that island, are we?”
“If I don’t hear from Clint or Melvin within the hour, we’re going in.”
“No!” Dixie shook her head and stood, her sun-dried clothes still clinging to her body. “Dennis is going to kill me! You can’t let him hurt me!”
“God damn it, shut the hell up!” Mallory ended the recording and stood to face her, causing the boat to rock roughly. “I don’t have time for your meltdown. I need you to sit your ass down and tell me what happened before it’s too late.”
Dixie gulped and sank to a seat, then nodded weakly. “Okay, I’ll talk.”
Positioning herself where she could see Dixie while also keeping an eye on the island, Mallory started the recording again and made another introduction. When she was done, she said, “Okay, Dixie, go ahead and tell me everything you know about the murders of Carl Duval and his family.”
Dixie licked her lips. “Like I said earlier, the first thing I heard about the treasure was when Nathan a
nd Philip came to the bar and started talking about it. I mentioned it to Dennis that night—you know, just making conversation—and he told me to try and find out the name of the people who owned the house.”
“Did he say why?”
“No. He just told me to find out where they lived. I didn’t think he would do what he did.” Dixie lowered her eyes and her shoulders slumped. “I asked around a little bit and then one day Bill Welch’s son came into the bar and I asked him if he knew about any gold that was found in Mechant Loup. He told me he did, but that he couldn’t talk about it. I…well…um, I started giving him doubles and even gave him a few on the house. Once he was drunk, I flirted with him a little and he told me everything I wanted to know.”
“And what was that?” Mallory asked, trying to hide her disgust.
“He said that Carl Duval was the one who found the gold coin, but he didn’t know anything about a treasure map.” Dixie sighed. “When I told Dennis, he insisted on going after it.” Dixie suddenly stopped talking and tears welled up in her eyes.
Mallory turned her gaze from the island to Dixie and put a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. I’m here to help.”
“I swear to God I didn’t know what he had planned.” Tears were flowing free now. “He found out their address and he began stalking them. He devised a plan to go to their house on the night of the parade. The plan was to wait until they got back from the parade and follow them in the house, but it turned out they wouldn’t even leave. So, Dennis told me to knock on the door and ask for help. He said a helpless woman alone at night would seem harmless and they would let me in to use their phone.”
Another pause, and then Mallory asked if that’s what she did. Dixie nodded and went on to describe what happened next. She knocked on the door and a man answered. She told the man she was having car trouble. The man let her inside and left the door unlocked. While she was talking to the man and his wife, Dennis slipped in through the door and made his way upstairs.