by B J Bourg
“He’s like a ghost when he moves,” Dixie said. “He reads those ninja books. He loves camouflaging himself and disappearing in the woods just for practice. He makes me try to find him sometimes and I never can.”
She said Dennis found a little girl first and took her captive. “He came down the stairs with a knife to her throat and stepped out where the man could see him. He told the man to be very calm and to call his whole family downstairs or he would cut the girl’s head off.” She shivered, as though reliving every detail. “The man begged Dennis not to hurt his family, and Dennis promised not to do anything to them if only he cooperated. But he lied. That bastard lied!”
Mallory nodded solemnly and squeezed Dixie’s shoulder. “It’s okay. Just tell me what happened next.”
“Everyone cooperated. They didn’t give any trouble. While Dennis held the shotgun to everybody, he made me tie them up with some zip ties that he brought along, starting with the man. Once everyone was tied up, Dennis demanded to see the treasure map, but the man said he didn’t have it anymore. He said someone stole it.”
“Let’s back up. You said Dennis brought zip ties. Did he plan this thing out?”
“Oh, yeah, he had everything planned out. He drove by the house a bunch of times to scope it out and he filed the serial numbers off of his shotgun in case he had to use it. He said the only way we could get away clean was to make it look like a murder and a suicide, and he said he’d have to leave the gun behind and we couldn’t break into the house. He said it had to look like somebody on the inside did it.”
Mallory nodded, and then asked if Dennis believed Carl when the homeowner said someone stole the treasure map.
“Oh, God no, Dennis thought he was lying all the way. He threatened to kill the older woman if Carl didn’t start talking. When Carl kept saying he didn’t have the map, Dennis pulled the trigger twice on the shotgun.” Dixie shuddered again. “It was so loud and scary. I…I’ve never seen a dead person before, and I’ve never seen Dennis looking so mean. I didn’t think he was capable of murdering someone. It…I was scared to death. I knew if I didn’t do exactly what he told me to do, he would kill me.”
Dixie took a deep and shivering breath and continued in a monotone voice. Her eyes were glazed over and she stared unseeing at a spot in the water. “That’s when things got really ugly. Dennis, he was a crazy man. He was screaming at the dad to tell him where the map was or he would annihilate the man’s entire family. The man was crying and begging Dennis to stop. He swore on his life that the map had been stolen. Dennis shot the wife next. The man begged him to stop, to kill him and leave his family alone, but Dennis told him he was going to talk or everyone would die.” Dixie wiped a lone tear from her cheek. “When Dennis killed the boy, the man began screaming that he knew where the map was and he would take us to it, but Dennis said he had to describe the location. When he couldn’t, Dennis told him they all had to die. Without blinking, he killed the girl and then put the barrel on the floor at the man’s feet.”
When Dixie stopped talking, Mallory turned her attention from the shoreline and glanced at her briefly. “What happened next?”
“I’ll never forget the look in that poor man’s eyes. Dennis reached up to grab the man behind the head, but he jerked away from Dennis. He then laid his face right on the barrel of the shotgun and told Dennis to do it. He told Dennis to kill him and get it over with.” Dixie frowned. “And he did—he wiped out every last one of them. Once he was done with the killing, he cut the zip ties off of the man’s hands and rubbed the man’s finger against the trigger area to get gun powder on it. Dennis was really pissed that we didn’t get the map. He wanted to start searching the house, but he heard a car outside. He told me to hurry and get my ass outside. I ran out the back door and he followed me, careful to lock the place up. This dog was barking in the back yard and we heard a car door slam and knew there would be trouble. While I hid in the bushes, Dennis pistol-whipped a girl that showed up in a detective car.”
Mallory’s gaze continued roaming the banks of the island while Dixie told the horrific story about what happened to the Duvals. She had heard and seen a lot in her time as a detective with the Chateau Parish Sheriff’s Office, but never had she heard of an entire family being wiped out, and never had she heard of anyone being killed over a treasure map.
“What’d y’all do with the woman he’d pistol-whipped?” Mallory asked when Dixie stopped talking.
“I didn’t do anything with her—it was all Dennis. He dragged her to this shed nearby, but he was afraid someone would see her from the road because the front of the shed was destroyed, so he made me help him drag her to another shed behind the first one. He tied her to a chair that was inside and started asking her questions. She was coming in and out of it and Dennis was getting desperate. A dog was barking real loud from the back yard of the house and it was making him nervous. He cursed a lot while he tried to get her to talk. He thought maybe she was a security guard and we might’ve triggered a silent alarm and that’s why she had come. He wanted to bring her in the house and shoot her in the living room to make it look like the husband did it, but we had already locked the house. He said if we broke the door to go back in it wouldn’t look like an inside job.”
“Go on,” Mallory coaxed when Dixie stopped again.
“Dennis wanted to take her with us, so he put tape on her mouth so she couldn’t scream. We then ran down the road to where the truck was parked. He said I would drive the truck and we would put the woman in the back of her car and he would drive it. He said we would figure out where to bring her and we would make her talk. He was convinced she knew about the treasure.” She shook her head. “He was sounding crazy by then, suspecting everyone of knowing about the map. He even accused me of having it at one point. It was all very scary.”
“Well, I know he didn’t take the woman, so what happened? Why’d he leave her behind?”
“Yeah, well, when we tried to come back to the house to get the woman, that big dog had gotten loose and was running around crazy. It was barking ferociously and it attacked the car when we turned into the driveway and tried to get out. Another car was coming down the road and Dennis got spooked and we left. He thought the car saw us and he became paranoid. He kept saying it was only a matter of time before the cops came looking for us and we’d have to leave town, but it never happened.” She sighed. “I was relieved when I heard the cops called it a murder and suicide, just like Dennis said they would, and I thought everything was going to be okay.”
Mallory’s head jerked downward to glare at Dixie when she made the last comment, but Mallory refrained from speaking so the woman could continue her story.
“Dennis wouldn’t stop obsessing about the treasure. He kept devising ways to get his hands on it, and he decided he needed to go after Nathan Baxter. He told me if Nathan ever came back in the bar, I was supposed to call him right away. I wanted to go to the cops, I swear I did, but he told me he’d hunt me down and kill me—and I knew he would. The next time Nathan came into the bar, I did what Dennis wanted me to do. I called him, he showed up in the parking lot, and then he followed Nathan home. When I heard from him again, he said he was right and he had found the map. He didn’t tell me anything else—just that he found the map. And then last night he said we were coming to get the treasure. He said we were leaving Louisiana once and for all. He even made me pack a bag and load it in the boat.”
Mallory was about to ask Dixie a question when the sound of gunshots erupted from the jungle.
CHAPTER 46
I immediately recognized Melvin’s voice and I responded with lightning reflexes that would have impressed Susan. As though shot in the brain stem, I dropped straight down and was going to roll to my right, but my rifle sling snagged on a branch and twisted my right side up and around, causing me to fall onto my back. I was just in time to see Dennis spring from behind a giant oak tree and swing the missing axe in a looping arc exactly where my head had been a
split second earlier. Had it not been for Melvin’s warning cry, Dennis would’ve surely beheaded me.
Although my life now hung in the balance, I was calm—deathly calm—and things seemed to move in slow motion. I could see every detail of Dennis’ face; the surprise in his eyes when the axe slammed harmlessly into the trunk of a nearby sapling, the sweat pouring from his cheeks, the greasy blond hair dangling in his face, and the tightening of his jaw as he prepared to wrench back on the handle of the axe.
My AR-15 was stuck under me. Instead of trying to fight it free, I reached for my sidearm. Even as my hand wrapped around the grip and my finger hit the release button, I knew I was going to be too late. In one deft motion, Dennis had ripped the axe free from the trunk of the tree and lifted it high in the air. It had already reached its apex and would descend and smash through my chest before the muzzle of my pistol could clear the holster.
Realizing I would never shoot him it time, I immediately kicked out with the heel of my boot, trying to take out his left knee. To my dismay, I realized the kick would not reach him in time. As I braced for impact, I saw something pluck at the front of Dennis’ shirt. There was a startled look on his face. The axe paused and hung in the air for a second, giving my foot time to reach his knee. I heard his leg pop as it folded ninety degrees in the wrong direction. The front of his shirt jumped several more times as bullets sprayed the area, some of them riddling his body and others peppering the surrounding trees and empty space around me. I stayed low, where it was safe.
Melvin must’ve fired his entire magazine, because there was a brief pause and I could hear the sharp metallic click of a magazine being fed into a weapon.
Dennis looked shocked as his arms went limp, the axe falling from his grip. With a grunt, his body collapsed toward his left, directly over his broken leg. I brought an arm up to shield my face from the falling axe, and it thudded roughly against my forearms. I untangled myself from my rifle sling and the axe and scrambled to my feet. Dennis groaned on the ground. He reached for a nearby sapling and pushed himself onto his good knee, attempting to stand. Something crashed through the bushes to my left and I glanced up to see Melvin making his way toward me like a wild boar tearing up the countryside.
“Stay down,” I said evenly as I refocused on Dennis and trained my pistol on him. “If you don’t, I’ll shoot.”
Dennis steadied himself with his left hand and reached slowly for his waistband with his right. His eyes glowered with hatred. “Damn you to hell, that treasure’s mine!”
When he pulled his hand from his beltline, I saw an old Colt Model 1911 semi-automatic pistol gripped tightly in his grease-stained paw. I didn’t wait for him to even try to lift it. I raised my own pistol slightly. When the front sight settled over his face, I pulled the trigger. The first bullet hit him right under his left eye. The second bullet entered the soft flesh under his chin as he rocked onto his back.
Melvin pulled up short next to me and took in the scene. His breath was coming in heaving gasps. “I felt like I was running the gauntlet,” he complained, turning to give me a once-over. “Are you okay? Did he get you?”
I shook my head. “I’m fine now that he’s dead.”
“I didn’t think I could hit him with all the trees in the way.” He wiped a rivulet of sweat from his face and approached the hole in the ground. “Do you think the treasure’s down there?”
I had moved to Dennis’ body and was searching his pockets. When I reached the back right pocket of his jeans, I found what I’d hoped was there—the treasure map. I held it up and regarded it with awe. Melvin strode toward me and stopped when he was beside me. He whistled. “Damn, that’s an old piece of history. It belongs in a museum, not in some private person’s possession.”
“Yeah, but then the map would be revealed and all kinds of people will be heading out here trying to find the gold.” I frowned. “Six people have already lost their lives over this piece of rawhide, and I’m afraid it won’t end there unless…”
“Unless what?” Melvin asked curiously.
“Unless we get rid of this thing.”
“Get rid of it? How?”
I indicated the hole in the ground. “That looks as good a place as any.”
Without saying another word, I threw the map into the hole and picked up the shovel. Melvin watched as I transferred the mound of soft mud back into the hole, covering up the map until we could no longer see it.
“I’ll let Mallory know we’re okay,” Melvin said as I worked. He disappeared and I continued to move scoop after scoop of mud on top of the map and possible gold that was buried beneath the earth. I wanted to walk away from this area and forget it existed. With any luck, the next hurricane would come along and destroy this little island, burying the treasure forever.
Once all of the mud had been returned to the hole, I packed everything down as smooth as I could and covered the freshly turned earth with tree branches and underbrush. No one ever ventured out here on the island, but if someone did, I didn’t want to make it easy for them to find this place. Hell, for all we knew, the treasure wasn’t even down in the hole. It might’ve been found years ago, or never buried here in the first place.
Even as I thought it, I knew I was probably wrong. I could almost feel the spirits of those brave warriors lurking in the shadows, just waiting to stop whoever might try to claim the treasure as their own.
CHAPTER 47
It had taken Melvin and me nearly an hour to get Dennis’ body and his boat back to where Mallory was waiting with the tour boat. We had covered him in a large tarpaulin we found in a hatch on the tour boat and shoved him across the back row of seats. Dixie hadn’t seemed disturbed by her boyfriend’s sudden exit from this earth, and after receiving a brief summation of her story from Mallory, I understood why.
“Where’s the treasure?” Mallory had asked once Dennis’ body was in place.
Melvin and I had glanced at each other and shrugged. In a voice loud enough to make sure Dixie heard me, I said, “It was all bullshit. There’s nothing out there except big snakes, alligators, and spiders the size of my palm.” I held up my open hand for comparison. “That map was a deathtrap.”
Mallory nodded in agreement, knowing it was best to kill any chances of word getting out about hidden treasure in our swamps.
I walked over to Dennis’ body and kicked it with the toe of my boot. “It seems this lowlife killed an entire beautiful family for nothing.”
Dixie gasped—I didn’t know if it was from my revelation or the kick to her former boyfriend’s body—and buried her face in her hands. Mallory took a seat beside her and wrapped an arm around the distraught woman, trying to calm her down. I studied Dixie through slits, remembering the conversation I’d had with her in the barroom. She could’ve spoken then—told the truth—but didn’t. She had done a good job of acting casual, and I wondered if the lure of gold had been enough for her to excuse what Dennis had done.
On the boat ride back to the Mechant Loup boat landing, I pushed Mallory’s phone to my ear and listened to Dixie’s tearful statement. I was unsure of what to do with her, so I decided it would be best to take a formal statement from her once we arrived at the police department, and then I could contact the district attorney’s office for guidance. She hadn’t killed anyone and she could be viewed as an unwilling participant, considering her boyfriend was a ruthless killer and had threatened her own life.
Of course, a strong argument could be made that she’d had an opportunity to break free from his clutches when we had visited her at the barroom, but a counter to that could be that she was too afraid to do so. I had to admit that many crime victims keep quiet for years and endure their suffering alone, and they do it for any number of reasons. Most of those reasons have to do with fear, and whether reasonable or not to an outside observer, the fear is usually always real to the victims.
I glanced often at Dennis’ body as I sat in my seat, enjoying the breeze on my face and the swaying of the
boat. Although I was left with some satisfaction that this case had come to a just conclusion, there was still an empty feeling in my gut for Chuck Duval. I wondered how he would take the news that the man responsible for the heinous murders of his family was dead. Would he feel a sense of closure and move on with his life? Or would the emptiness in his heart be too much to handle, and would he end up on the wrong end of a 180-grain chunk of copper-jacketed lead?
I was still pondering this—and other things—when the boat launch came into view. The sun was starting to dip behind the trees to the distant west and I was feeling the strain of the day. I wanted some food, a shower, and a long nap—not necessarily in that order—but I knew I had a lot of work to do before I would get any of it. Most of all, I wanted to hang out with Grace and Susan. I realized I hadn’t spent much time with either of them lately, and I just frowned and shook my head as I considered that I might definitely be turning into that guy from Cat’s in the Cradle. At least we only had a handful of murders each year. More than that, and I would be gone from home all of the time.
“Melvin, can you transport the body to the coroner’s office?” I asked when we had loaded the swamp tour boat onto the trailer.
He nodded and spat in disgust. “Sure, I’ll take out the trash.”
Amy had driven Susan to the boat landing and I filled them in on what had transpired out at the island. Susan had sighed heavily when I told her about my close call with the axe. She didn’t say a word, though, except to tell me she would ride with me to the station. Dixie was standing near Melvin’s truck and I showed her to the back seat of my Tahoe.
Mallory agreed to get someone from the sheriff’s office water patrol division to transport Dennis’ boat to their storage facility for processing, and she also offered to put together a team of investigators to run a search warrant on Dennis’ home. I had a lot to do at the police department, so I readily accepted the offer. She also took Dennis’ pistol, the axe, and the shovel and said she would see to it that they were processed and sent to the lab.