by Sharon Sala
She was climbing out of the truck bed, and Damon was running toward her when the man with no face rose up and shot her brother in the back. Damon died with his arm outstretched toward her. She was trying to reload her shotgun when she heard someone calling her name. She opened her eyes to see Wade standing over her bed, shaking her awake.
"Oh my God," she whispered.
"You were crying out," Wade said.
"It was a dream, just a dream," Logan said. "Please, turn on the lights!"
He reached above her bed and pulled the chain, instantly sending a bright circle of light into the middle of the room. Then he poured cold water into a cup and lifted her head so she could drink.
She took one sip, then another, and then the third before the dream began to fade.
"Thank you."
He eased her head back onto the pillow and then went to the sink, got a wet washcloth and came back to the bed and began washing her face, as if she was a baby.
Logan saw everything in his eyes a woman would ever want to see in the man she loved. She took the washcloth from his hand, dropped it on the table, then pulled his hand to her face.
"You scare me, Wade Garret. You make me feel again. I thought I'd buried my heart, but it's still there."
Wade cupped her face, then leaned over and kissed her. Before she could catalog the feeling, he stepped back.
"Never fear the heart that loves you," he said, then rubbed his thumb across her lower lip. "Do you think you can go back to sleep?"
Mesmerized by his gaze, she shook her head.
"Want to split a candy bar?" he asked.
"What? Did you just say candy bar?"
"We have to do something. I suggested the candy because I really want to crawl in bed with you, and you're not ready for that."
"Then raise me up, you crazy man. I'll eat candy with you and save that thought for another day."
Wade opened the top drawer of the little bedside table, pulled out the Snickers candy bar, and tore off the paper. He broke it in two pieces and handed one to her.
They took a bite at the same time, then ate in silence, watching the changing expressions on each other's faces.
It was just after midnight when a new shift of nurses came on duty.
Logan had fallen back to sleep, and Wade was standing at the window.
"Everything okay?" the nurse asked as she came into the room.
Wade glanced at Logan and then back at the nurse.
"Yes, ma'am. Everything is good."
Chapter Thirteen
Daylight brought another round of thunderstorms.
Josh Evans was still at home when his cell phone rang.
He looked at Caller ID and frowned. They were already calling him from the police station with something that couldn't wait until his arrival, which did not bode well for his day.
"Hello, Arnie. What's up?"
"There are people here at the station," Arnie said.
Josh frowned. "Okay...so how many people and what do they want?"
"There are about thirty in here with me, but there's a line out the door."
"What the hell?"
Arnie winced at the tone in his boss's voice.
"They all claim to have tips about Conway's murder. Some have tips about who shot Logan Talman, or they saw something that might be of interest. We've already had to break up one fight between two guys who decided to blame each other for the murder, while neither one is ready to blame the other for shooting Mrs. Talman."
"I did not see this coming, but I should have," Josh said. "I'll be right there."
Josh's wife, Lorene, walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. "Trouble already?" she asked.
He turned around. "More like chaos," he said, rolled his eyes, and gave her a quick kiss.
"Don't forget your poncho. It's pouring," she said.
He grinned. They didn't have any kids, but there were days when she treated him like one.
"Yes, ma'am," he said, winked and left on the run.
Big Boy woke up in the middle of the night, bathed in a cold sweat. There were so many loose ends to the mess he'd made of his life, he didn't know what to do first, cut all ties and run, or start tying knots and see how many held.
One big problem he had to fix now had to do with that damn pickup. And that's all because of the woman. Why couldn't she have just stayed in Dallas? Why did she have to come back and stir up the past?
And, if all of this mess hanging over his head wasn't enough, last night he couldn't get it up. Sugar claimed she didn't mind and went for one of her sex toys, but he minded. Hell. What kind of a man was he if he couldn't perform? Stress. It was all this fucking stress.
He spent the rest of the night downstairs in the den, watching TV and dozing in the recliner. By the time the sun was up, Big Boy had figured out how to take himself out of the picture. All he needed to do was remove one more player from the chain of events that had led him to the bayou that night.
When the chief got to the station, he saw a line of people out the door and halfway down the block, all willing to stand in the rain to say their piece, and it was his job to hear them out and take their statements.
"God give me patience," he muttered, and drove around to the back to park.
His poncho was dripping rain as he came in the back door. He saw the empty jail cell, which told him Paul Robicheau was no longer their guest. Likely bonded out and already back on the streets of Bluejacket. That was encouraging.
He got to his office, hung up the dripping poncho, and poured himself a cup of coffee, then called Arnie.
"I'm here. Send the first one back."
"Yes, sir," Arnie said.
Moments later, Josh heard footsteps coming down the hallway. He got up and opened the door.
"Good morning," he said. "Have a seat."
And so it began.
Wade had already shaved and downed one cup of coffee by the time Logan woke.
"Good morning," Wade said, and patted her arm.
Logan smiled sleepily as she raised the bed to sit up.
"Morning. Have you heard from McGuire this morning? Is everything going okay on the job sites?" she asked.
"It seems to be. He said the guys all send their best wishes and to hurry home. They miss your steely gaze."
Logan laughed. "I do not have a steely gaze."
Wade grinned.
She frowned. "Do I?"
"Sometimes," he said. "It scares the hell out of all of us when we see it."
"Then good," she said. "I need some kind of edge to keep fifty men on five job sites in line. Oh, who am I kidding? You're my edge, and I know it. If it wasn't for you standing between me and them, half of them would have already quit. They don't like having a woman for a boss."
"I like it," Wade said.
"Thank you. I like having you around, too."
The door opened and a nurse came in with a handful of clean towels and washcloths and laid them aside.
"Good morning, Logan. These are for later. I need to check your stats and breakfast is on the way."
"I'm going to step out and leave you two on your own for a bit. You know the drill, Boss Lady. Within the sound of your voice," Wade said, and left the room.
Watching him leave, Logan wished she had the freedom to walk out with him. She was sick of this inactivity and even more tired of being disabled, even if it was a temporary thing.
"Why does he call you ‘Boss Lady’?" the nurse asked.
"Because I am his boss. I'm a contractor. I build housing additions, and he's my general manager."
"Wow. That is awesome. You have a big footprint in a man's world and have men working for you. Way to go, lady! Now, let's get you up and get this show on the road."
Big Boy had his gun and the silencer beneath the seat, and he had lifted Sugar's little spray can of mace to bring, too. He didn't know exactly how this was going to happen, but he intended to have as many options with him as possible.
>
By the time he arrived at Barney's for breakfast, the rain had passed. He saw a couple of friends from the Lowrys’ shrimp boil last night as he walked in, and at their invitation, pulled out a chair at their table and sat down.
Junie came sailing by with a coffee pot and filled his cup.
"Know what you want to eat?" she asked.
"Yes, ma'am. Eggs over easy, bacon, and biscuits with a side of white gravy."
Junie nodded and went to turn in his order as Danny Bales walked into the cafe. He saw Big Boy and the other men at the table, nodded and smiled.
"Want to join us?" Big Boy asked.
"I appreciate the offer, but I'm pickin' up an order to go. I'm on my way to Buford Point to do a little fishing before the day gets too hot."
"Hell, Danny, this is summer in Louisiana. Is it ever any other way?" Big Boy asked.
Danny laughed.
"You'd be right about that, but unless one of you is willing to give me a job, I'm going fishing." Then he saw one of the waitresses coming out of the kitchen with a sack. "That looks like my breakfast. Y'all have a good day."
Their food came to the table as Danny left, and Big Boy spent a solid hour eating and talking. By the time he was ready to leave, his mood was positive. He got in his car, checked the fuel, then headed out of town toward Buford Point.
Even though it was barely past ten a.m., Danny was already one beer into a six-pack, with one fish on the stringer. He heard a car coming through the trees and frowned. Damn it. Someone was going to set up in here and ruin his spot.
Then he recognized the vehicle and relaxed. Whatever he wanted, he wouldn't be here long. That man did not like to sweat.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Danny yelled, and waved him over.
Big Boy felt of the pistol wedged into the back of his pants and kept walking. The thought of doing this up close and in broad daylight made him nervous. He had to get it done and be gone before someone else got the same idea Danny had.
"Catch any yet?" he asked.
"Got one," Danny said. "Want a beer?"
Big Boy pulled the gun and aimed.
Danny's eyes widened in disbelief.
"What the hell, Dude?"
"Sorry," Big Boy said, and pulled the trigger, putting a neat round hole in Danny's forehead.
Blood splatter dotted the trees and the bushes behind where Danny had been sitting, while the force of the impact put Danny on his back, still in the folding chair with the fishing rod on the ground beside it.
Big Boy turned to leave, and as he did, saw the float bobbing on Danny's rod, and then watched it disappear beneath the water, taking line with it.
"You got one," Big Boy said, and then ran back to his car and drove away.
It was a quarter to twelve, and Josh had just finished taking the last statement regarding Damon Conway's death and sent the man on his way, when Arnie buzzed him on the intercom.
"Chief. Call for you from the Parish Sheriff's office on line three."
"Thank you, Arnie," Josh said, and took the call.
"This is Chief Evans."
"Josh, this is Sheriff Elway."
"Hey, Carl. How's it going?"
"Not too good right now," Elway said. "Some kids down at Buford Point went fishing this morning and found the body of one of your citizens."
"Oh, no. Who was it?"
"Danny Bales."
Josh immediately flashed on the interview he'd just had with him.
"What happened? Did he drown?"
"No, but there's a bullet hole in his forehead. Danny knew his killer. Looks like the shot just laid him backwards, still sitting in the chair. I need you to notify his next of kin. Will you do that for me?"
Josh sighed. This was the part of the job he hated most.
"Of course."
"There's not a shred of evidence here and no witnesses. Was anything going on there in Bluejacket that would lead me to a suspect?"
Josh thought about the Conway case, and the fact that Danny had rented out the Silverado he owned on a regular basis.
"Maybe," Josh said. "We have a big thing going on now that just came to light. A ten-year-old murder we just found out about, and the relative who brought this to light is in the hospital after being shot, too."
"Damn. Sounds like someone is trying to get rid of witnesses," the sheriff said. "Well, we're about to transport the body to the Coroner's Office. Tell his widow we'll be in touch when the body is ready to be released."
"Yes, sir. I sure will. Good luck."
"Same to you. Keep me in the loop. Sounds like our cases might be connected," and then he hung up.
Josh replaced the receiver, then buzzed Arnie.
"Yes, Chief?" Arnie said as he answered.
"I'm going to have to make a death notification, so I'll be out until after lunch. When you get a chance, mop up the puddles down the hall and in my office."
"Yes, sir," Arnie said.
Josh got up and then reached for his hat. Damn it to hell, he did not want to do this.
The rain had moved on, and the landscape was already steaming. The vapor was visibly rising as Josh drove down Main, then parked at the Shrimp Shack. He'd been through the drive-thru here so many times over the past few years without thinking about the woman cooking the food that he bought, and now he was going to have to break her heart. It wasn't good police procedure to let personal feelings spill over into ongoing cases, but right now he was enraged.
Bluejacket was home to a whole lot of people, and none of them should have to live in fear. He needed to find this bastard and find him quick. He radioed his location in to dispatch, and then grabbed his hat and got out.
The scent of hot grease and fried shrimp met him at the door. The six tables inside the shack were full, and there was a line at the register waiting for take-out orders, as well as the line of cars going through the drive-thru. He glanced past the owner manning the register to the kitchen behind him.
Stella was in high gear, putting potatoes into one deep fryer and breaded pieces of shrimp into another. There were two others making shrimp Po-Boys as fast as the shrimp came out of the fryer. And he was about to bring everything to a screeching halt. He took a deep breath and then moved through the diners, past the line waiting for pickups, to the owner.
Rory Martin was a fifty-something Cajun who'd been running the Shrimp Shack most of his adult life. He'd seen the chief come through his drive-thru many times, but he couldn't remember one time when he'd come inside to eat. He knew from the moment he walked in that he was here on business. Rory was scared, afraid the bad news Chief Evans carried on his heart was going to be for him, and he started praying when the chief came toward him.
"Hey, Chief," Rory said.
Josh nodded, then lowered his voice. "I need to talk to Stella right now, and she will have to leave, so if there's anyone you can call to take over for her, do it now."
Rory's eyes widened. "Oh Jesus, Chief. Yes, okay. One of the guys can take over for her until my wife can get here. I'll call her now."
Rory picked up his phone and called home.
"Lara, it's me. I need you down at the Shack, ASAP. I'll explain when you get here."
Then he hung up the phone.
"I'll get Stella now."
"Yes, please, and someone get her things and bring them outside to my car."
Rory was pale and shaky as he went back to the kitchen.
Josh saw Stella look up, then Rory pointed to the register where Josh was standing. That's when the smile on Stella's face disappeared. Rory took off her apron, then held her hand all the way to the register.
Josh put a hand on Stella's shoulder.
"I need you to come outside with me for a bit."
Stella moaned and nearly went to her knees.
Josh took her by the arm and led her through the room, desperate to get her outside before she fell apart. He opened the front door of his cruiser to get her out of the heat, then got in with her, start
ed the engine, and turned up the fan speed on the air conditioner.
"Stella, I am so sorry to have to tell you this, but I just got a call from Sheriff Elway. Some fishermen found Danny's body at Buford Point this morning."
Stella screamed, and then covered her face and started to sob.
"No, no, no! I don't understand. He was just fishing! What happened?"
"They don't yet know who did it, but it appears that Danny was murdered...one shot to the head."
Shock spread over Stella's face so fast that it stopped her tears.
"Murdered? What the hell?" she cried. Then she gasped. "Danny said you were questioning him about a case you were working on. Is that right?"
"Yes, ma'am. I did do that."
A dark flush spread up her neck to her cheeks.
"Is he dead because of that?"
"I don't know that, Stella, but it's a possibility."
"Oh my God!" Stella screamed. "What hell are you working on?"
"Murder, ma'am."
"Danny didn't kill anyone!"
"I know that."
"Then what!" she cried.
"We only know a little bit about the killer we're looking for. The murder happened in 2008 and the killer drove a late model Chevrolet Silverado to the crime scene. I spoke to Danny only because he was one of several people in the area who owned one. This is when he was still married to his first wife."
"Connie. Oh my God! I'm going to have to call Connie. She's going to have to tell Angela her daddy is dead. Oh my God, that damn truck. He loaned it out to everyone and their hound dog. One of them was the killer, right? That's why he's dead! The killer didn't want Danny to start naming names."
Josh was surprised that Stella made that connection, but couldn't confirm it until they proved it.
"Right now, everything is still supposition."
Stella's chin came up.
"That woman who was shot at the motel...it was her brother who was murdered, right?"
"Yes, ma'am. That's now public knowledge."
Stella nodded, then wiped her eyes.
"I need to go home now."
"I'll take you," Josh said.