by BJ Bourg
After the bagpipes had stopped playing and everyone was seated, the sheriff and different members of each family walked to the stage and honored the heroes with beautiful words of love and sorrow. There wasn’t a dry eye in the house and every individual in the place remained focused until the very last speaker. The pastor closed the ceremony with a prayer and then everyone broke rank and started making their way to the doors for the funeral procession.
My phone vibrated in my pocket and I glanced at the screen as I waited for our row to start moving. It was a text message from Mallory. She’d called earlier in the day to say she and Doug were heading out to Bayou View Pub to spray the place with luminol. Her message said she was able to confirm that Chloe was killed inside Bayou View Pub. The spot in front of the two bullet holes in the wall lit up like a Christmas tree. They had cut out sections of the floor and found dried blood in some of the cracks, and she was certain it would come back to Chloe.
I shoved my phone back in my pocket and looked wistfully toward the nearest exit. Now that we knew for sure where Chloe had been killed, I needed to question Bill about his whereabouts on Wednesday.
I leaned over and whispered the news into Susan’s ear. She nodded and we slowly made our way toward the end of the pew with the rest of the officers in our row. Just as we reached the crowded aisle, I felt a hand pulling on my wrist from behind. I turned and saw Isabel squeezing toward me from between two officers. Reginald was right behind her and they were trying to stand their ground and not get sucked up with the crowd stampeding toward the exits.
“Where are you parked?” Isabel asked, raising her voice to be heard over the buzzing crowd. “The sheriff wants you in the procession that’s heading to the cemetery.”
I tried to explain where we were, but she waved me off. “Forget your car—y’all are getting in with us.”
I didn’t even try to object. Seth and Nate had died fighting for us and I wanted to be front and center paying tribute to them. I looked toward Susan, but didn’t have to say a word. She had heard Isabel and was already leading the way toward the side door.
Once we were outside, Isabel pointed toward the road, where dozens of cop cars were lined up behind the two hearses. Reginald’s F-250 was about four cars behind the second hearse. “We’re already in line,” she said.
Susan and I followed them across the grassy front yard and climbed into the back of the truck while they climbed into the front seat. We all made small talk as we sat in the truck and waited, and the conversation eventually turned toward the investigation into Chloe’s murder.
“I wanted to ask you about the case at Chloe’s funeral,” Reginald said, “but I didn’t think it was appropriate. Anything new? Any developments?”
I told him about the text message I’d received from Mallory and he nodded. “I think it’s time to have a conversation with Bill.”
Isabel groaned. “God, this is getting bad. My stomach’s been in knots for days.”
“I went into work last night,” Reginald said, “and searched every inch of his office for that phone.”
Isabel shook her head. “I already told you he wouldn’t keep it in his office. If he’s got it, it’s in his car.”
Sirens started wailing and six officers on motorcycle patrol pulled out onto the road and started leading the procession toward the funeral home. Reginald took his place in line and we settled in for the long, slow ride to the cemetery.
My uniform pants were grabbing, so I shifted in my seat and adjusted them, wondering why I made myself and my officers wear the polyester pants. I was the chief, after all, and could change the uniforms to whatever I liked. As I moved my feet to a more comfortable position in the spacious back seat, my eyes caught a glint of shine from the floor. I leaned over to see what had made the sparkle and saw a tiny object just under the driver’s seat.
“What is it?” Susan asked.
I shrugged and lifted the object from the floor. My mouth dropped open and the blood in my veins turned to ice as I brought the object close enough to my eyes to identify it. My stomach ached and I felt sick. I scanned the back seat in disbelief, searching the floor first, and then the seat, and then the ceiling. My heart nearly stopped beating in my chest when I saw a bare footprint in dust on the ceiling. It suddenly all made sense to me.
Susan noticed something was wrong. She leaned close to me and whispered, “What’s up?”
Not taking my eyes off the bare footprint on the ceiling, I handed her the tiny object. I heard her gasp when she saw Chloe’s missing snowflake earring clutched between my fingers.
CHAPTER 46
I finally tore my eyes from Chloe’s bare footprint on the ceiling and stared out at the trees whisking by on the shoulder of the road. I didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but it was difficult not to see the writing on this wall. Chloe had met her new boyfriend on Wednesday for more than just lunch, and her new boyfriend was Reginald Hoffman. I cursed myself for not reading Reginald better. His shock and concern when we recovered Chloe’s body, his appearance at Chloe’s funeral, his interest in the case…all of it should’ve set off warning bells. The only reason he was so concerned was because he cared about her—the same as I did.
Susan grabbed my hand and squeezed. I turned to face her and she mouthed the words, “Are you okay?”
Squinting in anger, I nodded and tucked the earring in my shirt pocket. I didn’t say another word on the drive to the cemetery. When we stepped out of the truck, I made my way to the burial plots and stood beside Susan. As the master of ceremonies belted out commands to the seven officers on the honor guard, I stood with fists clenched and jaw set, wanting nothing more than to confront Reginald. I had the good sense to wait until after the ceremony, but it took everything in me to hold myself back.
As the seven officers fired the three-volley salute, I stood motionless, unmoved and feeling numb. My fears had been realized—Chloe was a cheater and I’d been played as a fool. More than hurt, I felt anger at myself for having been such an idiot. How could I have been so blind and trusting?
I was finally able to block out my thoughts and focus on the end of the service. When it was over, I stood in line to walk by the family and bid them well. Reginald was about ten people ahead of me and I kept my eyes on him. When we were done, I turned to Susan. “Call Melvin to come pick us up. I’ll be right back.”
“Where are you going?”
“Have a word with Reginald.”
She took a deep breath and exhaled, but didn’t say a word as she fished her phone from her pocket.
Reginald was laughing with a couple of other officers when I walked up and grabbed his arm roughly. “We need to talk.”
There was a look of confusion on his face as he followed me down a long corridor of tombstones. I didn’t bother saying a word in explanation, preferring to let him wonder. Deep down, he probably already knew what was up. Our shoes clanked against the concrete sidewalk and I didn’t stop until I’d gone about fifty yards and we were well out of earshot of the crowd.
I rounded a corner and stopped between two large gray tombs, turning to face him.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
“How was your lunch date with Chloe Wednesday?”
I saw the color drain from his face. He stammered for a second, but quickly regained his composure. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “So, you knew about us.”
I nodded. “You’re the worst kind of scum—a cop who’ll sleep with another cop’s wife or girlfriend. It’s a good thing you left the sheriff’s office and went to work at the DA’s office, because you’ll never have another partner.”
The color had returned to Reginald’s face and he suddenly seemed defiant. “Well then, if you knew about us, I have one question for you.” He took a step closer to me and I saw his hand inch toward the pistol at his side. I relaxed the muscles in my right arm, ready to go for my own gun. I studied his eyes, waiting for the slightest twitch.
“Go ahead, a
sk your question,” I said calmly.
“Did you murder Chloe and shove her in the trunk of her car because you were mad at her for cheating on you?”
“If you were my friend, you’d know three things about me…I don’t believe in violence against women, I don’t compete for women, and I don’t fight over women.”
The lines in Reginald’s face slowly began to disappear as he began to relax. He sighed. “Then what do we do from here?”
“We find her killer and bring him to justice.”
Reginald frowned. “I’m really sorry, Clint. I didn’t mean for this to happen. She started coming around during the grand jury hearings and she interviewed me a few times over lunch. We got to talking and found out we had a lot in common, you know? One thing led to another and we ended up—”
“Save it,” I said sternly. “I don’t care how it started and I don’t want to hear how you cheated on your wife with Chloe.”
“I didn’t cheat on my wife with Chloe. My wife left me over two weeks ago.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear it,” I said. “Maybe she can find someone who’s more honorable and trustworthy than your sorry ass.”
“Don’t act all high and mighty with me.” Reginald sneered. “We all know how Susan was caught bringing cake to your house on your birthday.”
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
“Chloe knew y’all were having an affair, so she decided to give you some of your own medicine.”
I felt my face grow hard as I took a step closer to Reginald. “I’m not a cheating piece of shit like you,” I said. “I’m loyal and faithful to the woman in my life—a concept that’s foreign to you. If Chloe didn’t realize that, she didn’t deserve me.”
He gulped audibly and his face turned pale. I realized he probably thought I was going to hit him, so I stepped back.
“Look, I’m sorry for spreading that rumor,” he said. “I was just repeating what Chloe told me. I was certainly wrong for being involved with her when I knew y’all were dating. You can call me whatever you want and you’ll be right…I won’t even try to argue. I just hope we can put our differences aside and work together to find the person who killed her.” Reginald hung his head and I thought I say tears dripping to the ground. “I know it’s not what you want to hear, but I did love her and I want to find who killed her so I can put that bastard in the ground.”
After a long moment of staring him down, I sighed. “I told you the latest on my end, what’ve you found out on yours?”
“Nothing, really.” He squeezed his eyes with his hands and looked away for a moment. When he turned back to face me, his eyes were red and his chin was trembling. He busied himself pulling his cell phone from a leather pouch attached to his belt. After messing with the phone for a minute, he turned it so I could see the screen. He’d received a text message from someone named True Love at six o’clock on Wednesday evening stating she was in an interview and was working late. True Love sent another message at ten twenty-six to say she’d made it to her dad’s house.
“Am I correct in assuming you saved Chloe’s contact information under True Love?”
Reginald’s face flushed a little, and he nodded.
“Jesus, Reggie…are you in grade school?” I stifled a chuckle and studied the messages. “So, the killer texted you from Chloe’s phone at the same time he texted me.” I rubbed my chin. “Everyone knew Chloe and I were together, but who knew about you and her?”
Reginald’s eyes grew wide. “Shit, that’s a great point. The only person who knew I was seeing her was Bill. A couple of the prosecutors and one or two of the secretaries suspected something was going on, but Bill knew for sure.”
“How do you know he knew about it?”
“After Chloe had come in there accusing him of killing his wife, he pulled me aside and told me I needed to keep a tighter leash on my bitch of a girlfriend.”
I clenched my fists. “He called her a bitch?”
Reggie nodded.
“What did you tell him?”
“What do you mean?”
“What did you say in response to his comment?”
“Nothing, really. I mean, what was I supposed to say?”
“Twenty years ago you had the courage to accuse him of killing his wife, but now you keep your mouth shut when he calls your girlfriend a bitch?” I shook my head. “What kind of man have you become?”
“I’m two years away from retirement and smart enough to pick my battles carefully.”
I was bored with the conversation and needed to start figuring out my next move, so I turned and started walking toward where Isabel and Susan were waiting for us. Reginald put away his phone and strode along beside me.
“I need to talk to Bill,” I said.
“Good luck with that.”
“I need you to get me in to see him.”
Reginald shook his head. “He has to think I’m on his side, or he won’t let me close to him. That phone is our only real evidence against him, and I’ll never find it if he fires me.”
I knew he was right, so I didn’t argue.
“What’s up?” Isabel asked when we reached them. She looked inquisitively from Reginald to me and back to Reginald. “Y’all look pretty intense.”
“Can you get me in to see Bill?” I asked. “I have some questions for him.”
Isabel pushed a lock of blonde hair behind her ear and cocked her head to the side. “About?”
“Chloe’s murder.”
“Do y’all really think he did it?”
Reginald nodded and told her about the text messages we’d both received from Chloe’s phone while it was pinging in the area of the district attorney’s office.
Isabel’s brow furrowed and she opened her mouth to speak, but then clamped it shut.
“Can you get me in?” I asked.
Still distracted, Isabel said, “Um…he has coffee every morning at this little café two blocks from the office. There’s a big sign out front that reads, Fresh Beignets Daily—can’t miss it.”
“What time should I be there?”
“He arrives at seven sharp every morning. There’s a little private room in the back where he sits and reads the newspaper.” Isabel turned away from me and shoved a finger in Reginald’s direction. “And why was Chloe texting you again?”
“I’ll let you two catch up,” I said before he could answer. I waved for Susan to follow me and we walked to the front of the church to wait for Melvin.
CHAPTER 47
5:00 a.m., Tuesday, November 3
Susan Wilson’s House – Mechant Loup, Louisiana
I reached blindly for the phone and slid my thumb across the screen to turn off the alarm. As quietly as I could, I rushed through my morning routine, trying not to disturb Susan. I had let Achilles out and fed him and was just pouring a cup of coffee when she stumbled out of the bedroom rubbing her eyes. “That time already?” she asked. “It felt like I just went to sleep.”
I nodded and handed her the cup, grabbing another for myself. “I want to get to the café early so I don’t miss Bill.”
She nodded and dropped to a chair. After placing her cup on the table, she reached behind her head and pulled her hair to her right side, covering up that shoulder and leaving the left side of her neck and collarbone area exposed. She took a slow sip of her coffee and asked if I wanted her to tag along. “After all,” she said. “You’ll be interviewing a potential murder suspect and could use the backup.”
I tore my eyes away from her smooth skin and concentrated on the smoke rising from my cup. “That might not be such a good idea, considering how he feels about you.”
“I can wait in the Tahoe,” she suggested. “At least I’ll be close by in case something happens.”
I nodded my agreement and decided to take Achilles into the back yard while she got dressed. As soon as I opened the back door, he bolted outside and went straight for a squeaky chicken toy Susan had bought him. Once he snatch
ed it up, he ran in circles with what looked like a giant grin on his face. Each time his front paws hit the ground, the chicken would squeak and he would try to run even faster. He passed close to me on one of his circles, so I lunged for the chicken and got a hand on it, knocking it from his mouth. After an intense scramble, with both of us fighting for the toy, I managed to get it away from him and held it high into the air. Without warning, he leapt effortlessly into the air and clamped his jaws shut around the chicken, jerking it from my grasp.
I laughed and watched as he shot across the yard like a bullet, determined to keep the toy away from me. Just then, my phone rang and I pushed it idly to my ear.
“Is this Chief Clint Wolf of the Mechant Loup Police Department?”
The voice sounded official. “This is Clint.”
The man identified himself as the assistant warden for the Louisiana State Penitentiary in Chetimaches. “An inmate named Lance Duggart requested to speak with you, but I wanted to verify you all had official business before allowing him to speak with you. According to Inmate Duggart, he was assisting you with a homicide investigation.”
Immediately alert, I verified Duggart was working with me, and a few seconds later he came onto the phone.
“Chief, I’ve been thinking about it all night and I think I remember the name of the woman who was sleeping with Bill Hedd.”
“Shoot,” I said, grabbing a pen and a small notebook from my pocket. Holding the phone against my ear with my shoulder, I wrote down the name he mentioned. It sounded familiar to me, but I couldn’t be sure I’d heard it before. “Is that a nickname?”