by BJ Bourg
“I’m not sure,” Duggart said. “I just remember her saying she thought he was sleeping with some girl named Izzy Ridley. She only mentioned it one time and didn’t say more than that, so it’s really all I know. To be honest, I didn’t care what her husband was doing—I just cared about her.”
I thanked him and hung up. Once Susan was ready to go, I rubbed Achilles’ head and let him back into the house. Susan and I then jumped in my Tahoe and headed north while I told her about my conversation with Duggart.
“Izzy Ridley…” Susan scrunched her face and whipped out her phone. “The name doesn’t sound familiar. I’ll have Lindsey run it.”
Within minutes, we were crossing the Mechant Loup Bridge and leaving the town behind us. I frowned as I glanced in my rearview mirror. If only I had thought to go up into the bridge cabin Wednesday night I would’ve caught the murderer and put an end to all of this. Or you would’ve gotten yourself killed, I thought. The murderer would’ve had the drop on me for sure, so there’s no telling how that would’ve ended.
After talking with Lindsey and waiting for her to run a name inquiry, Susan hung up her phone and turned to me. “You’re not going to believe this shit! Izzy is a nickname and Ridley is a maiden name.”
When she didn’t say anything more, I asked, “Are you going to tell me or do I have to beg?”
“I…I don’t know if I believe it.” She stared down at her notes and shook her head. When she finally told me the name, I shook my own head.
“That’s can’t be right,” I said. “There’s no way.”
“Lance must be shooting you a line of shit.”
We rode in silence, each of us in disbelief. If Izzy was who we thought she was, things were about to get real ugly.
After I’d driven for about fifteen minutes, Susan turned to me. “I just want you to know I’m sorry for what you’ve gone through.”
I cocked my head sideways. “What’re you talking about?”
“I’ve been cheated on before,” she said softly, “and it sucks.”
“Don’t apologize for something she did.” I shook my head, not really knowing how to express my feelings—and not really knowing how I felt. “I don’t even know what I was thinking getting involved with Chloe. On one hand, it felt good to have someone show interest in me and to have someone to hang out with, but on the other hand, I was often overcome with guilt. If you’re feeling guilty about being in a relationship, something’s wrong.”
“Did you feel guilty because you felt like you were cheating on Michele?”
I was thoughtful, and then nodded.
“Clint, you have to know it’s okay to move on with your life. Michele would’ve wanted you to.”
“The thing is…I never asked her for permission to move on. I know it sounds crazy and I know she can’t hear me or anything, but I think I should’ve at least asked her what she thought or let her know that I planned to move on before actually doing it.”
“How do you mean?”
“I think I should’ve visited her grave and talked to her about my plans. Should’ve given her a chance to show me a sign or something—to let me know it was okay to move on.” I stole a glance at Susan. “Does that sound crazy?”
“No, it actually sounds very romantic.”
“Nice try, but I know there’s nothing romantic about me…and I’m okay with that. I’m a man who understands his weaknesses.”
“Oh, shut up.” Susan laughed and playfully punched my arm. “You don’t fool me, Clint Wolf. I know there’s some sweetness under that tough exterior.”
I grunted and kept driving. When I pulled into town I found a parking spot along the street in front of the café. “Call my phone,” I said. “I’ll leave the line open so you can hear what’s going on.”
Susan nodded and made the call. I answered and slipped my phone back into my uniform shirt pocket. After giving her a nod, I stepped out into the cool morning air and strode toward the front door. “Here goes nothing, Sue.”
CHAPTER 48
The café was darker than I expected, so I stood to the side of the doorway to let me eyes adjust to the dimness. Both walls of the building were lined with round metal tables and chairs, leaving a narrow aisle down the middle. A sign to the right side of the room boasted hot beignets daily and listed a lunch special containing crawfish etouffee, popcorn shrimp, salad, and desert. The hostess walked up wearing a white button-down shirt and black pants. She greeted me with a smile and asked if I’d be dining alone.
“Actually, I’m supposed to meet the district attorney here,” I lied, pointing to my badge. “I’m the chief of police over in Mechant Loup and we need to meet about a case. He’s expecting me.”
She smiled and led the way down the narrow aisle until we reached the back of the café. She then stood aside and pointed toward a dark hallway. “It’s the first door on the right. Can I bring you something to drink?”
“I’ll have a cup of coffee.” I strode down the hallway and glanced through the doorway before entering. It was a small private room with a large window overlooking a giant pond. An egret was swooping in for a landing at the far end of the pond and an alligator was sunbathing on the near bank.
Bill was seated at the only table in the room and his back was to me. I took a deep breath and approached the table. He looked up when I stopped beside him, and immediately lurched back in his chair and gasped, the newspaper slipping from his fingers. “What in hell’s name are you doing here?”
I lifted my hands in a surrender position. “I’m just here to talk about a personal matter, and I was hoping you could help me.”
Eyeing me suspiciously, he regained his composure, gathered up the newspaper, and folded it neatly. Seemingly back in charge, he placed it aside and waved toward one of the chairs. “Please, sit.”
I took a seat—leaving my right leg angled away from the table so I would have easy access to my pistol—and thanked him.
Bill glanced at his watch. “What is it that you need to discuss? I have to be getting back to the office.”
“I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but my girlfriend, Chloe, was murdered the other day.”
His face was thick and blank beneath his Elvis Presley hairstyle. “I was sorry to hear about it. No one should have to endure that pain.”
“And I’m sorry you had to also endure that same pain.”
He only nodded and stared at me, waiting for me to get to my reason for being there. I knew better than to be confrontational, because that would get me nowhere. I had to make him feel like I needed his help.
“I understand Chloe went into your office sometime on Wednesday,” I said. “I was hoping you might tell me what she was after. It might help me retrace her steps and hopefully lead to the killer.”
“I thought that Simon Parker fellow murdered her and then you justifiably killed him in your home. At least, that’s what the sheriff’s office reports indicated, and it was the basis of my decision to not bring charges against you.” Bill leaned back and folded his arms across his belly. “Was that a mistake on my part?”
I didn’t need anyone to point out the idle threat, but I didn’t take the bait. “You see, sir, it turns out Simon Parker didn’t kill Chloe.” I told him about the hidden recorder and how it was connected to Megyn’s murder. “It seems Chloe was looking into your wife’s murder when she was killed herself.”
Bill waved his hand dismissively. “That case has been closed for twenty years. Lance Duggart killed my wife and he’s spending the rest of his life in prison where he belongs.”
“Would it surprise you to know that Lance Duggart was having an affair with your wife?”
The veins in his temple began to throb and I knew he was getting angry. “My wife was not having an affair with that creep! That bastard broke into my house, raped my wife, and then brutally murdered her.”
I looked toward the door and leaned close, lowering my voice. “I’m sorry, but I don’t want anyone to hear
any of this. After all, it’s no one’s business.”
He looked over his shoulder, suddenly remembering that we were sitting in a public café. Lowering his own voice, he said, “Jolene never met Duggart. Even if she had, she wouldn’t have had an affair with that piece of shit.”
“So, the relationship with Isaiah Wilson was her only indiscretion?” I thought Bill was going to reach across the table and punch me in the face, but he managed to hold it together.
“That animal stalked and raped my wife!” He glanced over his shoulder and then turned his red eyes back to me. “He’s lucky he died in the ring, because he would’ve died in jail otherwise.”
Ignoring his last comment, I pulled a folder from where it had been tucked in the back of my beltline and placed it on the table. I opened it and removed the sheriff’s office report from twenty years earlier. “I understand the murder weapon containing your wife’s blood was found in Duggart’s garage and his DNA was linked to her rape.”
Bill nodded again, but his face was still red with anger.
“If Duggart wasn’t having an affair with your wife at that time, then who was?”
“Son, if you think I’m going to sit here and let you disparage my wife, you’ve got another thing coming!”
I leaned back and raised my hands. “I’m sorry, but that’s not my intention. I’m just trying to solve a murder—nothing more, nothing less. I want to keep your wife completely out of it, but I need to know what Chloe was after, because it might lead me to her killer.”
“Are you saying you think Chloe’s murder was connected in some way to my wife’s murder?”
“Absolutely.” I told Bill about the conversation I’d had with Duggart, but I left out the part about his mistress. I wanted to save that for later.
“The man’s a rapist and a murderer, so you can take everything he said and wipe your ass with it.” Bill’s face twisted into a sneer. “If I had my way, he would’ve gotten the death penalty and he wouldn’t be around for you to interview anymore.”
“During the course of this investigation,” I began, trying to keep Reginald out of it, “I’ve obtained information about a receipt you found in your wife’s possession before she was killed.”
“Receipt? What receipt?”
“Oh, I think you know the one—it was a receipt from a hotel room in the city for a trip you knew nothing about.”
Bill’s eyes narrowed. “Who told you that?”
“Who told me is not as important as who she was seeing,” I explained. “It seems Duggart never took her to the city, so she had to be seeing someone else.” I paused and let him process that information before continuing. “Or, maybe the receipt wasn’t for your wife after all. Maybe it was your receipt.”
“Son, you’ve got some wild theories. If you don’t watch it, you might find yourself in some real trouble. After all, you just murdered a man in cold blood, so I would tread very softly if I were you.”
“Except you’re not me and I’m not you. Now, are you going to tell me who you were screwing, or am I going to have to guess?”
“I don’t like your tone of voice.” Bill pushed his empty coffee cup and plate of half-eaten beignets to the side and rose to his feet. “I hereby put you on notice that I will be launching a grand jury investigation into your actions with regard to the shooting death of Simon Parker. Now, you try to have yourself a good day.”
“What do you think Isabel’s husband will do when he finds out you were sleeping with his wife?”
“You ought to be ashamed of yourself!” Bill’s face turned to crimson. “After all she’s done for you, you’re going to sit here and slander her good name? Is this how you’re going to thank her for fighting for you and that Wilson girl? Do you realize I almost fired her for standing up to me on your behalf? Do you?”
While a strong feeling of guilt cut me to the core, I couldn’t let him know it. I stood and faced him with a confidence I didn’t feel. “Are you going to make me tell Isabel’s husband, or will you face this head-on like a man and leave her out of it?” Bill didn’t say a word, but he also didn’t walk away, so I figured I had him contemplating his options. “When Jolene cheated on you with Isaiah, it nearly killed you. I know you loved her and I know she hurt you, but you gave her a second chance. And what did she do? She squandered it. You knew she was sleeping with Duggart and you confronted her about it. She promised to break it off, but she didn’t, so you ran into Isabel’s arms.” I paused and nodded for emphasis. “You thought if only you could get revenge on Jolene it would help to even the score—perhaps make the pain go away—but it didn’t.”
“You don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.” Bill’s eyes were bulging and I knew he was on the verge of exploding.
“Then deny coming home early from the conference to find the house empty. Deny waiting in the shadows for her to return from her rendezvous so you could attack her. Deny ripping her clothes off to make it look like a rape, knowing her boyfriend’s DNA would be all over her. Deny planting the knife in—”
“You go to hell, Clint Wolf!” Bill spun on his heel and stormed out of the private room, nearly ripping the door from its hinges as he did so.
I stood staring after him and slowly pulled out my phone. “Did you get all of that?”
“Yeah,” Susan said. “It was pretty intense, but he didn’t confess to anything.”
“I know.” I sighed. “We need concrete evidence before we can go after him, but how are we supposed to get that?”
“Let’s lean on Isabel and see what she has to say. She might even be in on it.”
“Damn, Sue, she’s been good to us—she really has.”
Susan agreed with me and I walked outside to find her standing on the sidewalk near my Tahoe. We both put our phones down when we met up and I frowned. “Is there a way we can get to Bill without involving Isabel?”
“A wise man once told me if you find the motive, you find the killer.” Susan shook her head. “If Isabel’s the motive, there’s no way we can keep her out of it.”
CHAPTER 49
After grabbing a bite for breakfast, Susan and I drove to the sheriff’s office and met with Mallory.
“Do y’all think Isabel’s involved?” Mallory asked after we told her everything we knew to that point.
Susan and I traded looks and I shook my head. “She doesn’t strike me as the type to go killing off her competition.”
“What if Jolene was threatening to tell Isabel’s husband?” Susan suggested. “That would be reason enough to kill her.”
“But why kill Chloe?” I asked.
“Chloe was about to expose her relationship with Bill, which could blow the Duggart case wide open.” Susan reached back to fix her ponytail. She had elected not to braid her hair into cornrows that morning, because we had been in a hurry to leave. After she was satisfied with her hair, she pointed to the case file on Mallory’s desk. “She’s got motive, so we need to figure out if she had opportunity.”
“Opportunity to murder is one thing, but if someone other than Duggart killed Jolene, they’d need to possess the knowledge that Duggart was having an affair with Jolene and they’d need the opportunity to hide the murder weapon in his garage.” I folded my arms across my chest. “Bill fits two out of those three elements. We just need to figure out if he had the opportunity to hide the murder weapon.”
“Not so fast,” Susan said. “If Jolene told Duggart who Bill was sleeping with, doesn’t it make sense that Bill would tell Isabel who Jolene was sleeping with?”
Susan had taken a seat on a leather sofa in Mallory’s office and I dropped beside her, my mind turning over every piece of information I’d learned about the case. We all sat in silence for a few minutes until it finally dawned on me. “The knife—we start with the knife that killed Jolene.” I jumped to my feet. “Where’s Doug?”
“He’s been reassigned to patrol,” Malory explained. “He got drunk one night after you shot Simon and started runni
ng his mouth in a bar, telling everyone in the place that they could commit cold-blooded murder if they wanted, just as long as they dragged the victim in their house first.”
I scowled. “Well, one of us needs to talk to him about that knife, and it probably shouldn’t be me.”
Susan and Mallory nodded their agreement.
“What are we trying to find out?” Susan asked.
“We need to know what made him look in the garage.” I rubbed my chin, remembering what I’d read in the file and the pictures I’d seen. “He found that knife in such an obscure place. It was either dumb luck, good detective work, or he knew it was there.”
Susan’s head snapped around. “Do you think Doug’s involved in this? That he planted the knife or—”
“Oh, shit!” Mallory leaned back in her chair. “Why didn’t I think of that? Bill Hedd is Doug’s uncle. He and Doug’s mom are siblings.”
I snapped my fingers, remembering how Reginald said Doug wouldn’t even consider Bill as a suspect because he was the DA. What if the real reason was that Bill was his uncle? “Get his ass in here and interrogate the shit out of him!”
“What’re you going to do?” Susan asked.
“I’m going to have a long conversation with Isabel.”
Susan pulled me aside before I left. “Look, if we clear her of any involvement in the murders, let’s try to minimize the damage to her personal life.”
I nodded my agreement. “She’s been a strong advocate for us and I’d hate to cause her any undue hardship.”
“Right, but don’t let your guard down, either,” Susan warned. “She seems all nice and innocent, but she might be a cold-blooded killer on the inside.”
I smiled to let her know not to worry and left the building. I headed north again to the district attorney’s office, enjoying the sunshine on my face and the wind blowing my hair through the open window as I drove. My mind wandered to Michele as I traveled the lonely highway. How I wish you and Abigail would still be around to see days like today.