Silent Crickets: A Shallow End Gals, Trilogy Book Three

by Troutman, Kimberly

  Spicey and Sasha looked at each other. Terror was etched on their faces.

  Sasha grabbed her amulet and started rocking. Spicey dabbed her forehead and cheeks with a hankie.

  Willie asked Pete, “You been down that way lately? Still got that blue glow over there?”

  “Glows like a witch’s candle. Actually, easier to find at night ‘cause of it. You cut a full hour off your trip you go that way. Once ya get past Jeremiah’s, just keep bearin’ to the left, follow the blue light.”

  Willie looked at Spicey, “I think we’ll take the short cut. Just a few more gators is all.”

  Spicey rubbed her amulet and nodded.

  Sasha put her head in her hands and moaned.

  Jeanne and Thor loaded Jeremiah’s boat with the extra guns and ammunition while Alan said goodbye to Jeremiah at the house. Thor sat on an old box seat at the back of the boat and looked at Jeanne. Even in the middle of a swamp she was stunning.

  Jeanne turned to look at Thor. He had a strength she couldn’t define, a presence. “I bet Mass and his guys catch this bunch on land before they even get in the swamp.”

  Thor had turned on his GPS tracker and said, “Hope you’re right. No sign of anyone yet.”

  Jeanne took a few deep breaths. Thor could taste the stench of the swamp. “How can you do that? Breath in this crappy air like that?”

  Jeanne laughed, “I guess you get used to it. Remember, I lived out here for a month.”

  Thor shuddered. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was spooked out here at night. Everything looked different. It felt like a thousand eyes were watching them. “It’s so damn noisy.”

  Jeanne said, “That’s a good thing. When it gets quiet, danger is near. Have you heard of silent crickets?”

  Thor shook his head. Jeanne continued, “Many cultures use caged crickets as a sort of alarm system. When a male cricket is frightened, it stops chirping. Quite a few insects do that actually. In the marsh when there is a threat nearby, the swamp goes silent.”

  Great, Thor thought to himself. Now I have to listen for what I don’t hear.

  Alan joined them and pushed the boat from the shore. They headed opposite of how they would go to Mambo’s, and toward where they had found Becky and Amy the day before. Jeremiah’s place was about half way between the two locations. Dicky’s was just past where the bones had been found according to Jeremiah.

  Alan said, “I like this side of the bayou better than over by Mambo’s. A little deeper water. Not as many inlets and islands to mess you up. Still pretty easy to get lost though.”

  Thor hadn’t even thought about them getting lost. He thought about it now.

  Toby and Junior had taken Toby’s dad’s crab boat to the far north shore of Honey Island. They finally made it to shore when Toby gave his dad’s gun to Junior to carry. Toby had the four dead turkeys to bait the Rugaru hanging over his shoulder. They put on the chest waders at the crab shack. If they were going to climb into trees, the chest waders had to go.

  Junior complained, “I can’t even turn around in this damn getup. How I goin’ to climb a tree?”

  Toby answered, “We just get this boat up in the grasses, cross over to where they been findin’ those bodies, and take the waders off. Leave ‘em at the bottom of the trees, hang our bait, and wait for the Rugaru.”

  Junior stepped off the boat and sunk knee deep into the murky water. He let out a yelp. “Damn it all! I got your dad’s gun wet.”

  Toby had his own struggle going on trying to pull the boat up on the grass while holding four dead turkeys. “Hush your mouth! Can’t be out here screamin’ and shit. Ain’t no matter ‘bout the gun. Probably waterproof. Get up here and help me. Damn boat weighs a ton.”

  Junior could hardly move through the muck. It took all of his strength to inch forward. “I think I’m in quicksand Toby! Can’t lift my feet to move none.”

  Toby knew there were a lot of pockets of quicksand in the swamp. Heard tell of whole people just disappearin’. “Damn it all Junior!” Toby threw his dead turkeys a few yards into the grasses and waded back to Junior, “Grab my hand and let me pull ya.”

  Junior threw the gun past Toby into the grasses and grabbed Toby’s hand with both of his. Toby yanked and Junior screamed, “You’re bustin’ my arm!”

  “Will you quit screamin’? Take off them waders. Drop your straps and put your arms around my neck. I’ll walk you out.” Junior knew Toby was strong, but this still sounded like a bad plan. He dropped his straps, Toby backed up, and knelt down some so Junior could grab on to him. Toby grunted his way to the grasses, turned, and dumped Junior on shore. Toby dropped down to sit next to him.

  Toby saw his daddy’s gun, grabbed it, and shook the water from the barrel. “I’m thinkin’ it’s still okay.”

  Junior started to crawl backwards as he pointed to a large water moccasin swimming toward them. “Hope so! You gotta shoot that!”

  Toby’s eyes opened wide and he aimed. The first time he pulled the trigger the gun just clicked. Junior froze in fear. Toby pulled the trigger again. He was shocked when the gun fired and actually hit the snake. They both stood, hanging on to each other, as they tried to regain some composure.

  Toby took his waders off and threw them in the boat. “The sooner we get to some trees the better. Your cell phone workin’?”

  They both checked their phones, which were fine. Toby picked up the four dead turkeys and put his daddy’s gun in his waistband. Junior was feelin’ sick to his stomach. Too bad. Toby was already walking deep into the marsh land and yelled back, “Best be movin’ it little buddy.”

  Yup, Junior was pretty sure he’d be gettin’ grounded after tonight.

  Simon, Nelson, and Dusty all stopped talking. They were nearly to Dicky’s when they heard a gunshot. Simon called Thor. “You just shoot something?”

  Thor answered, “No. I was just going to call you. Guess we’re not alone out here.”

  Simon kept his voice low, “How far are you from Dicky’s?”

  Thor asked Alan. “Alan isn’t sure. We’re almost at the spot where the bodies were found. Sounded like the shot wasn’t too far from us. We don’t have GPS activity yet. Maybe we’ll just hang around here for a few.”

  Simon agreed that was probably a good idea. Dusty was happy to hear that they weren’t going to chase down whoever was doing the shooting. Dusty dug around in his sack and lifted out a sandwich. “You guys hungry? I brought poor boy sandwiches.”

  Nelson was about to say he already ate when a large alligator head rose out of the water next to Dusty and opened its jaws. Dusty threw his sandwich at it. The alligator grabbed the sandwich and disappeared under the water without making a noise.

  “SHIT!” Dusty fumbled in the bag for the other two sandwiches and threw them to Nelson and Simon.

  Nelson caught it and said, “What you expect me to do with this?”

  Dusty yelled, “Give it to the next one, man. Better ‘an them eatin’ us!”

  Simon laughed as he tossed the sandwich away from the boat. “They smell your sandwiches. That is why they are here. You baited our boat.” Nelson threw his as far as he could and chuckled.

  “We need to be quiet. You got anything else in that bag?”

  Dusty reached in and brought out a can of bug spray they all passed around. Dusty moved to the center of the boat and whispered, “You see those eyes? Blood red them were. Damn.”

  Simon shuddered. He didn’t want to admit, it had scared the crap out of him too.

  Nelson looked at Simon, “This is probably just the beginning. Jeanne is afraid of the swamps at night.” Nelson looked at Dusty, “Do you know what a Rugaru is?”

  Dusty fell off the bucket he was sitting on. “Is that why we’re out here? You crazy fools want to arrest the RUGARU?”

  Willie, Spicey and Sasha stopped talking. Sasha hiccupped. Willie looked at Spicey, “That be a gunshot.”

  Spicey had a trace of courage because the Saints had invited her. She
moved the wooden box she was sitting on to the center of the boat and began a low, soft chant. She occasionally waved her arms above her head and swayed to her own music.

  Sasha’s hiccups were back in full force, and they were loud.

  Willie frowned, “Animals attracted to noise, ya know. Best you two quiet down if we’re to make it clean across this swamp.”

  Spicey swallowed her last chant and looked at Sasha who shrugged, “Hic!”

  Roger and Paul walked to the Star Ship from Canal street where Mass had dropped them off. Even though it was early evening the heat blasted up from the concrete and cobblestone sidewalks. A sour stench filled the air and crowds of tourists pushed quickly from one air-conditioned store to the next. Beggars and musicians sat on wooden boxes and lined the brick walls of buildings as far as the eye could see.

  Ray was in the basement still monitoring the wire transfers at French Quarter Bank. Roger wiped the back of his neck. “What are you still doing working? You can put those on automatic until morning.” Roger was worried his team was becoming as obsessed with this case as he was.

  Ray answered, “I know. I’ll probably stop soon. It is kind of like watching a video game. You get involved in it. Some serious money is starting to move now. We have gone from a few hundred thousand on each wire to in the millions. Simon thinks they’re testing for threshold triggers.”

  Roger just shook his head. “I admire anyone that can follow this money shit. Simon is one of the best.”

  Ray spun his chair to face his second computer. “You have an email here from the Los Angeles office.”

  Roger walked over and opened the email. The children already verified missing were four from LA, two from Chicago, and one from Topeka from an earlier report. Update: add two more children from Dallas and three from Orlando. Also of note: Six more members of the sicko club have been reported dead today. Shot. Death total: Ten.

  Roger closed the email and looked at Paul, “This looks to be more than just a bad day for sickos.”

  Paul pushed his chin out in his nervous twitch. “I’m thinking about the three transfers Core made to offshore accounts earlier.”

  Roger nodded, “Yeah. Me too.”

  Ray looked over, “What’s happening?”

  “It’s possible that Core paid three individuals to kill the members of the sicko club.”

  Ray swung his chair around to face his computer, “I hope they finish, and we never figure this out.”

  Roger’s phone rang, it was the Director, “Yes Sir.”

  “Department of Interior is trying to block the Coast Guard from seizing Lanitol Oil’s cargo ships and dock storage. They threatened to call the Governor on this. We’re trying to stop drugs from coming into the port, but all they can talk about is the nearly two billion dollars in taxes the oil companies pay into the state coffers every year.”

  Roger could tell the Director was angry. “We have two men in that facility right now.”

  The Director responded, “Three. CIA has a guy undercover from what I’m being told. The bad part is when this goes down the Coast Guard won’t know the difference. We can’t risk exposing their cover. You know what this is starting to sound like? Lanitol Oil and Manio cartel could be LUCY players.”

  Roger asked the obvious, “Are they getting a pass on this, or are we taking the drugs?”

  The Director answered, “No pass. Thank goodness for this martial law order. It took some heavy lifting, but I gave the Guard the go ahead about ten minutes ago. You better warn your guys to get out of there fast.”

  Thomas Fenley was reading his evening paper when his private line rang. The caller ID said it was London. Thomas answered, “Yes?”

  Donavan Luntz was on the other end. “What are we paying you for? Do you realize the Coast Guard has just been given orders from the FBI to seize one of our rigs, our cargo boat, and our dock facility? Do you fully understand the implications of the U.S. government associating Lanitol Oil with drug smuggling? You better think of something fast!”

  Thomas threw his newspaper on the floor. He just read a headline about the Zelez Cartel being accused of seizing shrimp boats for smuggling in the Gulf. It gave Thomas an idea. “Dump the people. When you get official notification of this, just say these were not your employees. You’re a victim. Someone captured your rig and boat. Blame Zelez.”

  There was silence on the other end. After a pause, “That might work. Manio was using a rig that has been dormant for some time. Fix this shit in New Orleans, Thomas. I do not appreciate this kind of news. Manio is losing another 2000 kilos of cocaine tonight. You explain it to him.”

  Thomas paced his spacious sitting room and called Thornton. When Thornton answered Thomas said, “What the hell are you guys doing over there?”

  Thornton sputtered, “What are you talking about?”

  Fenley sighed, “Don’t tell me you didn’t know about this raid either?”

  Roger dialed Mathew Core. “Can you talk?”

  “No.”

  “Can you listen?”

  “Yes.”

  “Coast Guard should be there any minute. Get out of there.”

  “Will do.”

  Core looked at Jimmy, “Time to leave. Let’s get ugly and have Zack take us outside.”

  Jimmy smiled and landed a fist against the side of Core’s head. Core shook his head and smiled. Zack started yelling for them to take it outside. Zack grabbed both of their shirt collars and acted like he was breaking up a fight. Core landed a punch on Jimmy and teased him to the door. “Come on! You think you want some of this?” The crowd of guys across the room started to walk over.

  Jimmy pushed past Zack and went out the door. Core and Zack followed. The minute the door shut behind them they ran for the chain gate. Core punched the guard as Zack hit the buzzer. The three of them jumped between the railcars and ran towards the back buildings. They heard the motors of the Coast Guard jeeps and trucks enter the dock area. From the side of a railcar they saw dozens of guardsmen begin to circle building four.

  Core looked at Zack, “Should we buy Jimmy a beer at Colby’s?”

  “Sure.”

  Core dialed Roger. “We’re out.”

  Roger said, “Call Manio. I want him to know you have good information.”

  Manio listened to Mathew Core describe the raid on Lanitol Oil’s dock building, the seizure of the cargo boat, and the seizure of the rig. Two thousand kilos, gone. If authorities discovered this method of supplying his product, it would be devastating to his delivery network. He had invested a fortune in the submarines alone. There could be no connection between his drugs and Lanitol Oil.

  Manio asked Core who set up the raid. Core answered he didn’t know, but he found out from a train man who assumed he was part of Manio’s dock crew. Core informed Manio the security guys at the docks needed to be replaced. Core had walked in, been told of the drug delivery, and infiltrated Manio’s men with one line of bullshit.

  Manio thanked Core for the call and hung up. The weak link in all of their goals was the deteriorating quality of their own workforce. The influences of their own drug business made it difficult to find valuable people. Many had serious drug habits. Most were uneducated, unreliable, and sloppy.

  Manio wanted to see how long it would be before Thomas Fenley called him about this new problem. A full hour passed and Manio’s phone rang. It was Donavan.

  Donavan was surprised Fenley hadn’t called Manio yet. He explained he was going to claim his facilities had obviously been compromised by some drug ring, most likely Zelez, and Lanitol Oil was a victim. Manio listened as Donavan explained he had called Fenley before the raid and told him it was going to happen. Donavan’s contact at the Interior Department would help spin the story that Lanitol Oil was an unsuspecting victim.

  Donavan expressed his regrets that this episode was costing Manio over fifty men and two thousand kilos of cocaine. Surely Manio understood it was more important to protect the integrity of Lanitol Oil. Es
pecially since they had plans for unlimited future business. Manio thanked Donavan for the information and sat rocking in his chair. He waited for Fenley’s call. Half of his supply could have left the docks before this raid, if they had been warned.

  Manio looked at his watch when his phone rang. It was Fenley. Manio was sure Donavan had warned Fenley he’d better call. “I assume since you are the third person to call me, you will have the most information.”

  Fenley’s mind raced. Third? “I’m still trying to discover what has happened, and who’s responsible. For now, we have to spin this.”

  Manio tapped his pen on his desk. “So I’ve been told.” Manio started to sketch a picture of a stick man being shot. “Remind me why we pay you?”

  Thornton sat at his laptop searching for any authorization notices he might have missed. Nothing. He couldn’t call anyone and ask what was going on without explaining how he knew. He couldn’t call Core because the government lines were still being monitored. Thornton rubbed his neck and slammed his fist on his desk. Damn it all! Another raid? He didn’t even know a shipment was coming in. He knew damn well who was going to be blamed for this though. Core’s suggestion he was at the end of his usefulness gnawed at his thoughts. This had to be Dance. But how?

  The Director sent an email to Roger: Coast Guard has seized everything. Lanitol Oil claiming they have been infiltrated and victimized by the Zelez Cartel.

  Roger emailed back: Can we leak this to the press exactly that way?

  The Director responded: No problem.

  Roger sat next to Ray at the computer station and turned on the television on the far wall to Headline News. He expected it would only take a short while for this news to hit the air. Roger was startled when Ray yelled, “Look who’s back? Thought you had a good gig going at the hospital?”