by Jana DeLeon
I stood up to get a better view of the house.
“What is it?” Ida Belle asked and rose beside me. Gertie had nodded off an hour ago, but fortunately, since she was upright, she wasn’t snoring.
“Just the deputy taking a walk,” I said.
“We’ve been here two hours now,” she said. “You still think he’s coming?”
I nodded. “I think he’ll wait until Deputy Breaux is more likely to be asleep.”
“That would have been the past two hours,” Ida Belle said. “He doesn’t know the deputy is one of those early to bed, early to rise people. You think I should move in closer since the front is unguarded?”
“Nah. It won’t take him a couple minutes to circle the whole house. If anyone approaches, we’re in position to handle him. I’d rather Deputy Breaux not be in the mix anyway. He carries a gun and might get confused as to who to fire on.”
“Good call.”
I was watching the near end of the house, waiting for the deputy to appear, when I heard a thump and a low moan.
“Something’s wrong,” I said, and shoved the FLIR at Ida Belle. “Stay here and cover the front.”
I took off through the woods parallel to the side of the house until I had a decent view of the back. The deputy was nowhere in sight and that was troubling. The yard wasn’t well kept but he would have easily towered over the marsh grass behind the structure. I wondered for a second if he’d tripped over something in the overgrown mess of a yard and taken a tumble. That would account for the thud and the moan.
I crept out of the woods and hurried over to the back of the house, inching my way down the side, scanning the ground for any sign of the deputy. I almost tripped over him before I saw him. I dropped onto my knees to check his condition. The moonlight provided decent illumination for most of the yard, but Deputy Breaux was slumped partially underneath the house, so I couldn’t see if he had an injury. What I could see was that he wasn’t moving.
I checked his pulse and let out a breath of relief when it was beating strong. I shook him gently and whispered his name, but he didn’t respond. I scanned the area surrounding me, making sure no one was nearby, and pulled out my penlight and shone it on the deputy’s face. He was definitely out. In the marsh grass near his head, I saw specks of red and gently turned his face to the side. The blow to his head was bleeding a bit but I was relieved to see it wasn’t as bad as I’d feared.
I pulled out my nine and rose from the ground. Hooch’s property was a mess, and there was no shortage of rubbish scattered around the yard, but the deputy hadn’t tripped and hit himself on the back of the head. Someone had struck him with something. And that someone couldn’t be far away. I crept to the far end of the house and as I rounded the corner, I saw someone slip around to the front of the house and climb onto the porch.
My finger twitched as I thought about Deputy Breaux, lying behind the house in the weeds, his head bleeding. I wanted to catch this guy, and if I hurt him just a little in the process, that would be the bonus plan. I crept down the side of the house to the porch and peered around the corner, spotting the intruder working on the front door.
And then Gertie started snoring.
The intruder froze, then whirled around, trying to zero in on the source of the sound. I couldn’t blame him for his obvious confusion. It wasn’t exactly the sort of thing one expected to hear coming from the woods. I could see something in his right hand, but with the shadows, I couldn’t determine if it was a tool or a gun. If it was a gun, I didn’t have good enough position to rush him before he could aim and fire. And since this one wasn’t sanctioned by the federal government, I couldn’t just shoot him. Technically speaking, I was already breaking the law just by being here.
He lifted his arm and this time I had little doubt. The shape was a firearm. He walked down the steps, scanning the road as he went. The only vehicle in sight was Deputy Breaux’s, so he’d walked in from somewhere as we had, probably on the opposite side of the road, which is why the FLIR hadn’t picked him up. I inched down the side of the porch, crouched low, hoping for an opportunity to rush him from behind.
And that’s when Ida Belle jumped him.
She must have been hiding on the side of the steps because as soon as the intruder stepped off the last one, she launched up and tackled him. I had to give her credit for the move. He was taller and bigger than her but she managed to send him sprawling onto the ground. Unfortunately, he popped right up and took off running. I set out after him at a sprint, but I could tell he was pulling away. Whoever he was, he could move. If he reached his vehicle or knew the woods well enough to navigate them at night, he was going to get away.
The first bottle rocket hit him right in the chest and he stumbled, almost falling. The second one caught him in the side of the head and he yelled. His left hand flew up and started shaking his hair, as if attempting to rid it of something, most likely burning paper. I turned on the afterburners, gave one huge leap, and grabbed him around the waist, sending us both hurtling onto the dirt road.
He dropped his gun when I hit him, but he scrambled to get up and I had trouble holding on to him. He kicked me in the face and it caused me to loosen my grip enough for him to get upright. I grabbed his foot and twisted it, bringing him back down to the ground next to me, then sent my elbow straight into his face.
“Stop or I’ll shoot.” Ida Belle’s voice sounded above us.
“Me too,” Gertie said.
We both froze, and I looked up to see Ida Belle standing over us with a .45 trained at the back of the intruder’s head and Gertie holding a bottle rocket in one hand and a lighter in the other. I jumped on the intruder’s back.
“Hands behind your back,” I said. I hadn’t identified myself as police, but I figured that’s probably who he thought we were, and facedown, he couldn’t see that it was two senior citizens. Granted, one could kill him from way farther than she stood now, and the other would probably try to launch that firework into his face and get his crotch instead, but he couldn’t tell any of that from where he was sitting.
“Zip ties,” I said.
Ida Belle reached in her fanny pack and handed me some zip ties, and I secured his arms with several of them. They weren’t impossible to get out of but once I flipped him over, there would be two women holding a gun on him and one with very scary pyrotechnics.
I hopped up and grabbed his shoulder, flipping him over. Gertie relinquished her fireworks and pulled a huge flashlight out of her bag and lit him up like the state penitentiary. He closed his eyes and cringed, involuntarily trying to move his arms in front of his face, but they weren’t going anywhere. I pushed Gertie’s arm to the side so that the light was more indirect and took a good look at the man I’d tackled.
“Ricky Marks?” I asked. He fit the description that Ida Belle had given me but I’d never seen him myself so I needed confirmation.
Ida Belle nodded.
“You’re in big trouble, Ricky,” I said. “Breaking and entering, assault of a police officer.”
“I didn’t do none of that,” he said. “Who the hell are you?”
“I’m the person holding a gun on you. What are you doing here?”
“Hunting,” he said, clearly not about to give up the ghost easily.
“With a pistol?” Ida Belle asked. “And not only on private property but at a crime scene? What kind of animal exactly were you tracking into Hooch’s house?”
“I want a lawyer,” he said.
I laughed. “That’s awesome. And I want a hot shower and a cold beer, but since we’re not cops, we don’t care.”
He squinted, trying to get a better look at us. “Then who are you? What do you want from me?”
“Nothing directly,” I said. “We’re just helping a friend. We did the hard part, now the sheriff’s department can do the rest.”
“Wait!” he said. “I have money. It’s not a lot, but I can get more.”
“Is that what you were looking for
at Hooch’s place?” I asked. “That’s why you killed him, isn’t it?”
His jaw set in a hard line. “I didn’t kill nobody.”
“Well, you sound really broken up that he’s dead,” Ida Belle said. “It might be easy to get the wrong impression given the circumstances.”
“Hooch was a piece of shit,” he said. “I’m not gonna pretend I’m sorry he’s dead.”
Ida Belle raised her eyebrows. “That’s a strong sentiment coming from someone who barely knew the man. You’ve been here what…six months? I mean, Hooch was no prize but he usually didn’t get people to wanting him dead until he’d known them for a couple years.”
He scowled and looked down at the ground. “I ain’t saying nothing else.”
At that’s when it hit me. The scowl, the set of his jaw, the shape of his eyes.
“Hooch was your father,” I said.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“What?”
“Seriously?”
Ida Belle and Gertie both yelled at once. Ricky didn’t say a word.
“You’re sure?” Ida Belle asked.
I nodded. “Recognizing underlying bone structure is something I kinda had to be good at. You know, for my last job.”
“Might as well fess up,” Gertie said. “A simple DNA test will tell everything the cops need to know.”
“That piece of shit was not my father,” Ricky said. “He lied to my mom, promising her all sorts of things, and then as soon as she got pregnant, he split. Back to Sinful, to his real wife and son. He owed her. He owed me. When I confronted him at the Swamp Bar, he told me he didn’t know my mother. I had pictures of them together and he still refused to admit it.”
“That must have made you mad,” Ida Belle said.
“Damn right it did. He’s up there bragging about all this money he’s about to come into. He didn’t deserve anything good. Not after what he did. But I deserve something from him, and I don’t care that he died.”
“You know,” I said, “Hooch didn’t take care of his real wife and son either. He abused her and she left with her son when he was still a young boy. You might not think so, but you were better off without him.”
“It figures. At least he was consistent, right?” His shoulders slumped and he dropped his gaze back down to the ground. “Whatever. Doesn’t matter anymore.”
“So what were you looking for, anyway?” I asked.
Ricky shrugged. “Probably nothing. Probably just more lies.”
I heard a vehicle approaching and looked over to see Carter’s truck. No way he’d gotten here that fast from Sinful. I figured he must have been on his way out to check on Deputy Breaux.
“Oh my God!” I said. “We forgot Deputy Breaux. Ricky conked him on the head. He was unconscious behind Hooch’s house.”
Carter walked up and looked at the three of us, then Ricky on the ground with zip ties around his wrists, and he sighed. “I suppose you were hunting again tonight?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said. “Just not anything with four legs. We caught this one trying to break into Hooch’s house.
Carter looked down. “Ricky Marks?”
I nodded. “More importantly, Hooch’s son.”
Carter’s eyes widened. “Seriously?”
“Fortune spotted the resemblance and got the confession out of him,” Ida Belle said.
“He has a gun,” I said, “and I’m guessing that’s what he used to whack Deputy Breaux over the head.”
“It was definitely something hard.” Deputy Breaux’s voice sounded behind us and I turned to see him shuffling up, clutching the side of his head with one hand.
Ida Belle hurried over to inspect his head. “You’re going to have a good knot,” she said. “But it only bled a little.”
“How do you feel?” Carter asked.
“Kinda dizzy,” Deputy Breaux said. “And things are a little blurry. My head really hurts.”
“Can you drive?” Carter asked.
Ida Belle shook her head. “No way he should drive. He doesn’t need his vehicle that badly. Just take him back with you. He can get his vehicle tomorrow.”
“I need him to take back the perp’s vehicle,” Carter said. “It’s parked in the bushes just up the road. I have to process it for evidence.”
“I can drive it,” I said.
Carter gave me an “absolutely no way” look.
“Deputy Breaux can ride with me,” I said. “Hell, you don’t even have to document that I drove the vehicle. Just put down that he did.”
Carter frowned and I could tell he wasn’t crazy about the idea but couldn’t find anything horribly wrong with it, either.
“It’s either that or wait for the state police,” Ida Belle said.
That kicked him into gear. “Okay, but you drive straight to the sheriff’s department and park right in front. Don’t touch anything except the controls you need to drive. Deputy Breaux will ride with you and supervise.”
He looked at Ida Belle and Gertie. “I assume you have a vehicle stashed near Young Huck’s house?”
Ida Belle nodded.
“Then I’ll give you two a lift,” he said.
We all started for Carter’s truck and I reached out to steady Deputy Breaux, who was walking a little like a drunk. Ricky trudged ahead of me next to Carter, his shoulders slumped and looking down at his feet. I know he’d killed a man and plotted to steal from his legitimate heir, but I still felt a little sorry for the guy. He’d probably taken a position near Sinful to check out his father, and that introduction hadn’t gone down anything close to the way he’d hoped. I understood Ricky’s feeling that Hooch owed him something. I agreed. But this wasn’t the way to get it.
Carter gave Deputy Breaux and me a lift to Ricky’s truck. The keys were in the ignition, so no hassle there. Ricky had clammed up as soon as Carter arrived and sat slumped in the back seat sporting a pair of real handcuffs. After an admonition to drive directly to the sheriff’s department and acquiring yet another promise from me that I wouldn’t touch anything besides the gearshift and steering wheel, Carter finally let us leave.
He followed us until the turnoff for Young Huck’s place, then flashed his lights and turned off the highway. Deputy Breaux and I continued on toward Sinful.
We were probably ten minutes from town when the deputy turned in his seat to look at me. “Hey. What were you guys doing out there anyway?”
“Hunting,” I said, figuring I might as well keep it simple. I had no idea what Carter was planning on putting in his report, so the less I said to the deputy the better.
Deputy Breaux nodded. “Lucky for me you decided to hunt tonight or Ricky would have gotten away. I don’t suppose you bagged anything before you came upon my troubles?”
“I’m afraid not,” I said. “Except for your troubles, things were pretty quiet out there.”
“That’s good. I heard a bear got into Young Huck’s house the other night. Everybody’s got something to worry about when bears start opening the front door and strolling inside.”
“Yeah, that sounds bad.”
I pulled into Sinful and directed Ricky’s truck to Main Street. I parked it right in front of the sheriff’s department and then went around to help Deputy Breaux out of the truck and into the building. Carter must have called ahead and informed Myrtle of what had happened because she met us at the door with an ice pack and aspirin for Deputy Breaux. We got him inside and onto the couch in the entry and took a better look at the lump.
“I think you should go to the hospital,” Myrtle said.
“No way,” Deputy Breaux said. “People die in hospitals.”
“People die at home, too,” Myrtle said. “You plan on going home, don’t you?”
“It’s not the same,” he argued.
Myrtle shook her head. “Then you wait right here on this couch and don’t move.”
“What if I have to…you know?” he asked.
“Pee?” Myrtle asked. “Then you let me know
and I’ll assist you to the restroom. I mean it. Lie down and don’t move or I’m calling 911 and your mother.”
He only looked mildly concerned at 911 but the mother part put a slightly panicked look on his face, and he lay down and lifted the ice pack to the side of his head. Myrtle glanced at me, and I could tell she was dying to ask me what had happened, but I shook my head and inclined it toward Deputy Breaux.
She nodded. “You want some coffee? I don’t know if Carter plans on keeping you guys around or not.”
“I don’t know either,” I said.
“Nope,” Carter said as he walked inside, guiding Ricky in front of him and followed by Ida Belle and Gertie. “I’m going to lock Ricky up and take Deputy Breaux to the hospital.” He pointed a finger at the deputy before he could protest. “No argument. You got a head injury on the job. There are rules I have to follow.”
Myrtle nodded her approval and took hold of Ricky’s arm. “I’ll take this one back.”
“Once the hospital business is taken care of,” Carter said, “I need to get a statement from Deputy Breaux, process Ricky, and search his vehicle. Then I’ll get a warrant for his home. I’ll get your statements tomorrow. I trust you won’t forget the order of events by then.”
“We’re not those kinds of old ladies,” Gertie said. “Our memories are just fine.”
“I’m sure,” Carter said. “It’s not your recollection I question. It’s your recounting of events that usually leaves something to be desired.”
“Oh, well, that,” Gertie said.