by A. C. Mason
I could hardly tell the two men apart as they struggled in the darkness. Finally the real Gibb—I think—I hope—pinned the imposter to the ground. The man pushed him away. Rising up, he brandished a knife.
If the wrong man won the fight, I’d be back in danger. A voice in my head kept urging me to run for my life, but I stayed frozen to the spot. And then there was also Dolly waiting to shoot at me again. That bullet might have my name on it this time.
Gibb grabbed the man’s arm and twisted it until he yelled in pain and dropped the knife. A firm punch to the man’s jaw sent him sprawling to the ground.
The sound of boat motors grew louder. I spotted flashing lights—at least I hoped I hadn’t imagined them. At this point I didn’t know what was real and what was not.
“That’s the flotilla boats,” Gibb informed me. “Go let them know our location. I’ll bring this scumbag out.”
I ran out of the woods, not caring about the possibility of stepping on something sharp or a live and slithery creature. Not even the thought of a woman with a gun waiting to shoot me deterred me.
The only thing I cared about was seeing Jim. And there he was, running toward me, followed by Danny and other law enforcement officers. Even FBI Agent Hargrove appeared on the scene.
Jim took me into his arms and held me tight. I pulled away when I heard shouting. Dolly stood on the porch still clutching her gun.
“Put your weapon on the ground, Dolly,” Danny yelled.
She hesitated for a brief moment, and then slowly leaned forward and placed the weapon on the porch floor. One of Jim’s officers handcuffed her and led her toward the boats.
“Where are Denise and Bordelon?”
I blinked. “Who’s…never mind. Denise is inside. I’m not sure how serious her wounds are. She might be…dead.”
“She’s hurt?”
My throat tightened. “She tried to grab Dolly’s gun and yelled at me to run. There were gunshots…I just got out of there.”
Jim hugged me tighter and whispered, “It’s over now, sweetheart.” He pulled back slightly. “Who else is inside?”
“No one. Gibb Romaine is in the woods with the man who kidnapped me. Gibb rescued me.”
A surprised look crossed his face, but he quickly signaled to Officers Hernandez and Wallace. “Check inside for Denise Berthelot,” he told Hernandez. “She sustained some wounds. I don’t know the extent. Get EMS to meet us at the dock.” Then to Wallace, “Bordelon is in the woods over there with Romaine. Advise the sheriff.”
Before the officers could execute their orders, more shouting made them stop in their tracks.
Gibb appeared from the woods holding a knife on the other man.
“Get on the ground both of you! Drop the knife, Romaine!” Deputies and Cypress Lake officers swarmed the pair.
“Don’t you dare charge Gibb on a weapons violation or anything else. He saved my life.” I felt the tears start. “That other man would have killed me,” I sobbed.
“Take it easy,” Jim said calmly. “They’re just being cautious. We know who the bad guy is here.”
“This Bordelon person...is he the killer of our two victims? I know he’s Dolly’s son by Malcolm Whitehall.”
“You’ve just been through hell,” he said. “I don’t want to burden you with any more details.”
If it hadn’t required a lot of energy, I would have staged a tantrum. “Listen, I was the one who lived through this ordeal. I deserve to know more details.”
“His name is Jason Bordelon.”
I frowned. “His name is Bordelon, not Babineaux?”
A faux sheepish look crossed Jim’s face. “True, he is Dolly Babineaux’s son by Malcolm Whitehall. Her real last name is Bordelon. And he did kill Berthelot and Edwards.”
“I knew it. She was Dolly B the singer.”
He grinned. “At least you didn’t say, I told you so.”
I managed a smile. “How did you find out where we’d been taken?”
“Tank gave us a great deal of information.”
“He’s still alive?”
“Yes, we were able to get him to the hospital in the nick of time.”
“He’s involved?” I asked. “How?”
“In Megan’s shooting,” Jim said. “He and Denise were afraid Megan knew why her father was killed, so Denise convinced Tank to shoot Megan. And he had knowledge of Malcolm Whitehall’s killers. The Bordelons were also blackmailing Tank and Denise.
“Right now Agent Hargrove’s partner Wilson is at the hospital in case Tank can speak to us again. The doctors made us cut our original visit short due to his condition.”
I was glad he hadn’t died. Even if he was guilty of attempting to kill Megan. There had been too much death around here. I should have been prepared for the next one, but I wasn’t.
Danny approached us wearing a glum expression. “We won’t need EMS for Denise. The coroner will be required.”
Forty-two
Ash Wednesday
I finally fell asleep around 4 a.m. Not a very restful sleep at that. When I awoke for the second time—or maybe a third time—I realized Jim had left for work and the house was quiet. He must have gotten the kids up and taken them to school.
The silence in the house made me feel empty and alone. I wanted to turn over and cover my head with the comforter. Sleep wouldn’t make the horrific scene from last night go away. Another experience I have to deal with, not run away from.
The image of Denise lunging toward Dolly’s gun haunted me. Granted, she felt she had no reason to go on living because she thought Tank was dead, and she could be sent to prison. But the woman knowingly provided me with a chance to escape. Her actions seemed so out of character from my earlier impressions of her.
A soft meow came from the doorway. I sat up in bed to have a look. The cat ran toward me and jumped onto the bed. She seemed to know I’d been through a terrible ordeal and immediately licked my face.
“My sweet Katy cat,” I said, smoothing her ginger fur. Ah, yes, the wonders of therapy animals.
The phone on the bedside table rang. Jim’s cell phone number displayed on the caller ID.
“Good morning,” he said. “Did you get any sleep?”
“A little. I kept thinking about Denise. Never in a million years did I expect her to give up her life so I could escape.”
“Her actions did seem somewhat out of character,” he said. “Danny and I met with the two girls who were spreading the rumors about Romaine as our suspect.”
“Did they reveal their source?”
“Both girls stated that Denise hired them to go around town dropping the information.”
“But how did Denise learn the identity of the suspect and his art work?”
“Tank provided some of the information, but until we can speak to him again, we won’t know any more. Wait, hold on.” He said something to someone in the office, and then returned to our conversation. “By the way, Bordelon purchased the tarot card art work Romaine had for sale at the Angola Arts and Craft Show.”
“That explains a lot,” I said. “I keep trying to figure out how Gibb knew I was in trouble. Have you spoken to him?”
“He told me he was on his porch smoking a cigarette when he saw Bordelon’s boat pass by. The moon had you in the spotlight and he saw you were tied up. He took off through the woods and waited to see what was going on.”
Smoking a cigarette on the dark porch. The orange spot? Boy, my head was really messed up.
“You know, except for the name of the killer, your plot about these murders had all the correct elements in it,” Jim mused. “Blackmail, illegitimate kids, payback—I don’t understand why those editors you send your stories to say the plots aren’t believable.”
“They apparently never heard the old saying—truth is stranger than fiction.”
Meet A.C. Mason
A.C. Mason is a native and resident of the Bayou State. She shares her home with three spoiled cats. Her two daugh
ters and their families (including three grandchildren and two great-grandchildren) live in nearby communities. She is a member of Sisters-in-Crime, Romance Writers of America, and Heart of Louisiana RWA.
Works From The Pen Of A. C. Mason
April Fools - December 2010 - Susan Foret, an aspiring mystery writer, takes on a real life mystery when she tries to prove her brother didn’t murder his wife.
Mardi Gras Gris Gris - July 2013 - Susan Foret is again thrust into a murder scene when one of the town’s wealthiest citizens dies near her as the local Krewe’s parade is ending.
Deadly Bayou - October 2014 - Police chief Jim Foret’s death is ruled a suicide. Susan Foret believes her husband has been murdered and sets out to prove his death is a homicide.
The Mistletoe Murders - Oak Point, Louisiana homicide detective Caleb Bourque is tasked with solving the case of a serial killer who leaves an unusual calling card with each victim—a sprig of mistletoe. After Joanna Chatelaine, a co-founder of a women’s outreach center, is killed, her sister Jamie starts receiving threats to her life if she doesn’t close Magdalen House.
Can Caleb unravel this complicated case before the killer makes good on his threat to kill Jamie?
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