by BJ Bourg
“Just get to the east side of town and head north on Cypress Highway,” I explained. “Susan will be waiting on the side of the road with her lights on.”
I glanced at Susan after the fact to make sure it was okay, and she nodded.
“North on Cypress Highway,” he drawled out, seemingly writing as he talked. “Lights on. Got it. I’ll be there in thirty.”
I ended the call and walked away from the others to cross the wooden bridge again. After texting a message on the satellite phone, I stood there in the cool night air, staring off into the utter darkness that surrounded me. I couldn’t have been there for more than three minutes when Susan was suddenly standing beside me. I felt her presence more than heard her approach. I didn’t know if that was a testament to her ninja skills or if my situational awareness was diminishing with my age. Sure, I was only thirty-six, but according to Amy, that was ancient.
“What’s on your mind?” Susan asked, taking my hand in hers.
“I’m wondering if Melvin is okay out there on his own, and I’m also wondering if April Pierce is alive.” I turned toward her. My night vision had faded a little when I’d looked at the screen on the SAT phone, but I could still make out her face in the dark. “I plan on waiting at the gate until Melvin gets back. If you don’t mind, I’ll hang on to your SAT phone until he makes it out of the swamps. I texted him earlier, but if I know him, he won’t want to wash out his night vision.”
“Yeah, keep it. Just be safe. We don’t know where the killer is, so we’ve got to assume he’s everywhere.” She squeezed my hand. “As for Melvin, he’s more at home in the swamps than in town, so he’ll be fine.”
“Ain’t that the truth?” I followed Susan to the vehicles and jumped in with her on the drive back to the gate. She had swapped my truck for her Tahoe when she’d brought Grace to my mom’s house earlier, so I would have to jump in with Amy when we were done at the park.
Regan was waiting for me when I stepped out of Susan’s Tahoe and she returned my AR-10.
“I love this rifle!” she said. “I want one like it.”
“You’re lucky he let you touch it,” Susan said. “It’s one of his most prized possessions.”
I didn’t even try to deny it. I took the rifle and placed it in Amy’s car. I then checked the SAT phone for the fifth time in as many minutes. Still nothing from Melvin.
Once Susan and Regan were gone, Amy and I sat on the bench and waited for Melvin. I didn’t like being idle. I wanted to be out there with Melvin or I wanted to start chasing down the killer. The only problem was that I had no clue who I was chasing. I would have to start digging into Chad Pierce’s life in order to determine if anyone had a reason to want him dead.
I asked Amy if she had any ideas.
“You’ve always told me to go where the evidence leads,” she said, “and right now we don’t have much evidence.”
“That’s no understatement.” I stood and began pacing back and forth in front of the bench. “This killing was certainly brutal and excessive. It’s one thing to want a man dead, but to also kill his daughter? Now that’s pure evil.”
“But he didn’t kill her,” she said slowly. “When he finds out she’s still alive, will he keep coming until he gets her?”
“If she knows something—if she can identify the killer—then you can bet your bottom dollar he’ll keep coming for her.” I stopped pacing. “You know, that young girl could be our only chance of solving this case. We need her, Amy. We need Melvin to find her.”
I glanced off in the distance, toward the covered bridge. The center of the trail was illuminated by the half moon that shone brightly above us and it pointed like a finger toward where I figured Melvin would emerge at any moment.
“Amy,” I said without taking my eyes off the trail, “I’m heading back to the bridge and possibly the campsite. I want to see what it’s like out there at night—like when the murder happened.”
“I’m coming with you.” She stood quickly. “But first I need to use the little girl’s room.”
“That’s no girl’s room,” I said. “It’s an outhouse that hasn’t been serviced in years.”
“Well, I’ve got a pistol and a flashlight, so I’m ready for anything.”
“You can’t shoot a spider.”
She paused for a second, thoughtful. “Why not?”
“They’re too small.”
“I guess you’re right.” She shrugged. “Oh well, if it’s my time to go, it’s my time.”
So saying, she walked to her car, grabbed the flashlight, turned it on, and headed for the latrine. Although I couldn’t see her, I could hear the rusty hinges on the door creak as it opened. It didn’t close right away, and I imagined she was inspecting the place carefully before entering.
While waiting for Amy to relieve herself, I retrieved my AR-10 from her cruiser and slipped the sling over my head and right arm. I was just checking the SAT phone again when a blood-curdling scream shattered the stillness of the night. My heart leapt in my chest and I reacted immediately, lifting my rifle and rushing toward the outhouse.
I was still a dozen steps away when the door burst open and Amy stumbled out, her jeans and panties still down around her ankles. She was hobbling and trying to maintain her balance, but she tripped and fell headlong, her bare butt glowing bright in the moonlight.
I quickly averted my eyes while continuing to advance on the outhouse.
“What is it?” I asked, my eyes wide with excitement. “What’s going on?”
I had never seen Amy speechless before, but there she was, wriggling back into her jeans and sputtering uncontrollably. I didn’t know if a spider had bitten her on the ass or if she’d seen a ghost, but whatever it was, it had scared the shit out of her.
I was just reaching for the doorknob when I caught movement to my left. A large and ominous figure was emerging from out of the darkness. It was coming at me fast, almost too fast for me to react.
CHAPTER 13
Chateau Parish Sheriff’s Office Criminal Operations Center
It was ten after ten in the evening and Jenny Billiot had to use the bathroom. I won’t miss this part, she thought as she parked behind the sheriff’s office building that housed the patrol section, the detective bureau, and several other sections within the agency. The only downside to being a female police officer was the bathroom breaks. Her male counterpart could unzip his fly, do his business, and be back to work in a flash. Not so for female officers. They had to remove their pistol from its holster, place it on the toilet tank, unbuckle their still-heavy gun belt, hold onto the belt so it didn’t race to the floor along with their uniform pants, and then squat. Once done, they had to wipe while keeping the gun belt off the floor, and then re-dress. It was a mess.
Jenny’s polyester uniform pants whistled as she approached the back door to the squad room. “This is another thing I won’t miss,” she said out loud, punching in her security code.
She pushed the heavy door open and was barely through the opening when a siren blared, causing her to jump in her skin.
“What the hell?” she glared around the room, but the hardness in her eyes softened when she saw Jim, Reginald, and Bill standing before her holding a cake. There were seven candles atop the cake—one for each year of her service to the department—and they were on fire.
“Happy resignation day to you,” they sang in awful unison, “happy resignation day to you, happy resignation day, Dear Jenny…happy resignation day to you!”
“And may you be fired from your new job and have to come groveling back to us,” Bill added after the song.
They all laughed, but Jenny felt her eyes moisten. After pausing to take a deep breath, she blew out the candles. Her comrades cheered as they moved to the tables at the center of the squad room.
“I’m going to miss y’all,” Jenny said ruefully.
“Bullshit,” said Jim. “Once you settle into your nine to five, you’ll forget all about us.”
“It’s not
nine to five,” she corrected. “I’ll still be working shift work, six to six, just like here.”
“Yeah, she’s spent the last seven years breaking people,” Jim continued, “and she suddenly decides she wants to start fixing people.”
“Nurse Jenny,” Reginald said, his head tilted upward. He stared at the ceiling for a while, but then shook his head. “Nope, I don’t like it one bit. I much prefer Deputy Jenny.”
They all laughed and Jim began cutting the cake. He handed the first piece to Jenny. It was a chocolate chip cookie cake—her absolute favorite. As she bit into it, her mind began to wander. Had she made a mistake going back to school to pursue her nursing degree? It had certainly been hard working a fulltime job while going to school, but she felt it was the best thing for her and her daughter. When she was married to Brie’s dad, she always thought he would be there to take care of their daughter if something happened to her on the job, but now she wasn’t so sure. He had run off with some young girl barely out of high school and he rarely had time to visit with Brie.
“Here, we even got milk,” Bill said, pouring Jenny a cup and interrupting her thoughts. “We remembered everything.”
“Y’all won’t need me anymore,” Jenny said, frowning. Although younger than all of them, they had always looked to her as a mother. “I don’t know how I feel about that.”
“If you felt bad, you wouldn’t abandon us for your nurse friends,” Reginald said, trying to guilt her into staying.
“Hey, let’s look at the bright side,” offered Bill. “She’ll now be friends with all those hot nurses at the hospital and she can put in a good word for us.”
“The only word I’m putting out on you is that you’re married,” Jenny said, sending a playful glare in Bill’s direction. “And if you put a move on any of them, I’ll spread the word that you have Chlamydia.”
“You’re cruel, Jenny, you’re so cruel.” Bill shook his head. “But I love you anyway and I’m gonna miss the hell out of you.”
They had been sitting there eating cake for a few minutes when Jenny suddenly straightened and glanced around. The four of them worked one of the shifts that covered Southern Chateau, and if they were all here, who was driving the bus?
“Who’s watching our area?” she asked.
“I got with the dispatchers earlier and told them to let us know when you called in for your bathroom break,” Jim explained. “I told them we’d need about twenty minutes, and they said they’d move two of the central deputies south for a little while.”
Jenny was impressed that the boys had thought of everything. “I’m really going to miss y’all.”
“You already said that.” Bill stood and tossed the empty paper plate and plastic cup in the trash. “I’m getting back on the road before I start crying.”
They all laughed and Jenny also stood. “I still need my bathroom break.”
They all surrounded her and gave her a group hug, pouting as they did so.
“It’s okay, fellows,” she said in a soothing voice. “I’ll see y’all once more at shift change.”
Still pouting, they began cleaning up the mess while Jenny headed for the bathroom. Once she was done, she thanked them again and headed for her patrol cruiser. She drove south with a heavy heart. Panic began to set in as she wondered if she was making the right decision. As it stood now, she could retire at forty-eight if she remained with the sheriff’s office. Job security was solid and the past seven years had blown by, so the next twenty-three shouldn’t be so bad.
And who said she had to remain in patrol for her entire career? With the rise in anti-cop rhetoric that had been plaguing the country over the past few years, fewer and fewer young people wanted to join the ranks of law enforcement, so there wasn’t a lot of competition when promotions came available. It was very feasible to think she could slip into one of the detective positions at some point in the near future. That would get her off the road and into a better schedule, which would be more convenient when Brie started school.
Jenny’s area of responsibility extended from Central Chateau south to the town limits of Mechant Loup, and she was about a mile away from Mechant Loup when she spotted a vehicle parked on the northbound shoulder of the road. It was a small, dark-colored SUV and the hood was up and the flashers on.
It was a quiet Sunday night on the southern end of the parish and there was no traffic on the road, so Jenny whipped her vehicle around and turned on her top lights. The same couldn’t be said for the northern part of Chateau. The deputies up there had already responded to two domestic calls, a brawl at a rowdy bar, and they’d interrupted a burglary in progress. Now, one of the northern deputies was chasing a car whose occupants were suspected of pulling an armed robbery earlier in the night, and there was no break in the traffic on the radio.
Jenny waited for a second to see if there would be an opening for her to radio dispatch to let them know she was out with the stranded motorist, but the chatter was nonstop. Based on the latest update, the vehicle was heading south and might be heading for Central Chateau. She decided to quickly check on the vehicle and then head north to intercept the car chase. Maybe she could end her law enforcement career with a bang by helping to apprehend some armed robbery suspects.
Lowering the volume on her portable radio, she stepped out of her car—careful that there were no vehicles coming—and began to approach the SUV. She shined her flashlight through the back glass, but didn’t see any heads inside the car. She turned to look down the road behind her, toward Mechant Loup. If the driver had gone for help, that would’ve been the most likely direction of travel since the nearest service station was just over the bridge in town.
Jenny continued her approach to the vehicle, shining her light through each window as she drew closer to the driver’s door. When she reached the driver’s window and looked inside, she realized the vehicle was empty.
Except for some dirt on the driver’s side floor mats, everything she could see was in excellent condition. She circled to the passenger side and peered through that window. There, too, everything seemed in order.
Jenny strode back toward her cruiser and was about to round the back bumper of the SUV when something caught her eyes. She stopped and stared at the grass on the shoulder of the road. Her headlights glistened off the dew that had settled on the neatly-cropped grass, but there seemed to be oblong blotches leading away from the road like footprints. The prints disappeared into the darkness at the outer reaches of her headlights as they headed for the bayou side thirty feet away.
Suddenly, at that moment, her radio scratched to life and Jim’s voice came on. Although she had lowered the volume on her radio earlier, the sound still startled her and she cursed under her breath. As she aimed her flashlight toward the thick underbrush along the bayou side with one hand, she simultaneously turned up the volume on her portable.
“…the BOLO from earlier?” Jim was asking.
“Negative,” Bill replied. “What about?”
“MLPD put out a BOLO for a dark blue Jeep Grand Cherokee that’s involved in a homicide…”
His words droned on and faded away as Jenny’s heart began to pound loudly in her ears. She whipped around and quickly confirmed that the SUV was a Jeep Grand Cherokee. She then reached for her pistol with her right hand while using her left hand to swing her flashlight toward the rustling of leaves she’d just heard from the bayou side. One thought flashed through her mind as she moved: Why hadn’t I foreseen something horrible happening on my last day on the job?
Jenny had practiced quick-drawing a million times since her days in the police academy, and this was the fastest she’d ever gotten a hand on her pistol. While it was a personal best and the lightning speed at which she moved filled her with confidence, it wasn’t nearly fast enough and her gun never cleared the holster.
Just as her fingers wrapped around the pistol grip, fully automatic gunfire erupted and lit up the darkness in front of her like the Fourth of July. Bullets bla
zed forward and attacked her with ferocious relentlessness. Her life was snuffed out almost instantly, sparing her a world of pain. She had no time to think, no time to move. In one millisecond, she was standing there full of life, a young mother with tons of potential and a beautiful life ahead of her. In the next millisecond, she had been reduced to a lifeless pile of torn flesh and broken bones.
CHAPTER 14
“Don’t shoot!”
I quickly lowered my rifle and gasped out loud. “Jesus, Melvin! Where in the hell did you come from?”
“I heard the scream,” he said. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know.” I turned toward Amy. She had squirmed back into her jeans and zipped them up. She was composed again, but her face appeared ghostly against the moonlight. “What happened, Amy?”
She pointed toward the outhouse door. “There’s something in there!”
I turned the muzzle of my AR-10 in the direction of the door. I stopped to listen, but heard nothing. Amy had slammed the door shut behind her, so I was unable to see inside. I moved forward and was about to kick it in when Melvin stopped me.
“It’s her, Clint,” he said softly. “It’s the girl.”
Confused, I glanced from him to the door. “What?”
“I tracked her to within twenty yards of this spot.” Melvin shot a thumb over his shoulder. “I was just over there and following the trail straight to this outhouse when I heard Amy scream.”
“I didn’t scream,” Amy said quickly, her chest heaving as she spoke. She pushed between Melvin and me and pulled the door open. She aimed the beam of her light at the opening in the toilet. “There’s something down there. I think the girl—Alice Pierce—I think she’s down there.”
I rushed through the door and glanced into the black hole. I could see nothing.
“Bring the light closer,” I said, waving Amy forward. “I can’t see past the rim.”
Amy advanced and shot the beam down into the tank. Melvin was standing over us and we all gasped in unison at the sight before us. A young girl—dark human waste dripping from her blonde hair and pale face—looked up with large, frightened blue eyes. Her lower lip was naturally pouty and it now trembled like a lizard clinging to a windshield.