by BJ Bourg
I jerked my head around to look at the clock hanging in the living room. “Shit! I have to get to the office!”
Chloe stood and straightened her dress, glanced down and giggled. “It looks like I slept in this dress.”
I stood, too, and watched her.
She turned toward me, and we faced each other for a long and awkward moment. “Well,” I finally said, “I hope we can do it again.”
She smiled and leaned in for a hug. She pressed her breasts against my chest and stayed there. I squeezed her back. We were caught in a game of chicken—each waiting to see who would let go first. I finally gave in and let my arms fall. Before she stepped back, she planted a wet kiss against my neck—a chill shot down my spine—and hurried off. The door slowed her escape, as she struggled with the lock.
I walked briskly to her and took her by the shoulder, spun her around. She gasped and looked up at me, eyes half closed, lips parted. I pushed my mouth to hers and kissed her like I meant it. We were locked in fervor, exploring each other’s mouths with our tongues, for what seemed like a small eternity.
* * *
Jack, William, Melvin and Susan were all sitting in my office when I walked in. They had dragged in two extra chairs from the lobby. I tossed my keys on the desk. “How was the night shift?”
Jack said, “Quiet.”
“Any more suspicious subject complaints?”
He shook his head.
I studied each of their faces. Susan had a pretty good poker face, but there was no way Melvin could hide anything from me. He was squirming like Achilles did when he had to pee really badly. “So,” I said slowly, “any action over at Seafood Sarah last night?”
“Come to think of it, there was.” William tried to sound casual.
“Somebody knocked the piss out of Beaver,” Melvin blurted.
William elbowed him. “Why didn’t you let me tell him?”
“I couldn’t help it! The suspense was killing me.”
“It was awesome to see him sprawled out on the ground with blood squirting from his face.” William smiled and stared at the ceiling like he was reliving the moment. “I can’t count the number of times I wanted to do that to him.”
I nodded. “Who did it?”
Jack eyed me. “Well, Beaver claims he was drunk and slipped, and all the witnesses say they didn’t see what happened, but that’s bullshit.”
“It had to be an outsider,” Melvin said, “because nobody in this town has the balls to mess with Beaver. Well, except for Susan.” He realized what he’d said and turned to Susan. “Sorry, Sue—no offense.”
Susan hadn’t taken her eyes off me. “None taken.”
“What are you talking about?” Jack scoffed. “I’d kick his ass right now!”
“Sure you would,” Melvin said. “He’s lying in a hospital bed and can’t defend himself.”
“A hospital bed?” I winced, knowing I’d given myself away with my surprised reaction.
“By the time I got there, the ambulance had already taken him away,” Jack said.
I lifted my eyebrows. “Wow. He must’ve fallen really hard. He should lay off the sauce.”
“He didn’t fall,” Jack said. “Those witnesses are covering up for someone.”
I tapped my fingers on the desk in front of me. I figured the townspeople hated him and were happy to see him get an ass-whipping, so that would explain the collective amnesia. But why would Beaver keep his mouth shut to protect me? Pride? I dismissed the thought and turned to Susan. “Ready to get to work? We need to put the squeeze on Randall.”
“Sure. Let me get my—”
The door to my office burst open, and I heard Lindsey’s voice call out from her desk, “Sir, you can’t go in there!”
Red McKenzie stared wildly about the room. “Chief, I need someone quick. My boys are missing. They left last night to check their trout lines and never came home. I’ve looked everywhere. I can’t find them.”
“Do you know where their trout lines are?” I asked.
Red nodded. “I checked the area, but they’re nowhere.”
I walked around my desk, took Red by the arm and escorted him out into the lobby. “I want you to go home and wait for my officers. Call all your friends and ask them to meet them there, as well.”
Red’s chin quivered. “Them boys are all I got.”
“I know, sir. We’ll get them back for you. Contact everyone you know and meet my officers at your house.”
Red nodded and darted out the door. I returned to my office, then pointed to Susan and Melvin. “Get the boats and get out to Red McKenzie’s house right away. And watch your asses—that damn alligator is probably back.”
“What about Randall Rupe?” Susan wanted to know.
“I’ll take care of him. You’re better on the water than I am—all of you are. Take separate boats so y’all can cover more ground.” I turned to Jack and William. “Go get some rest and be back early. I have a feeling we’re going to be busy.”
Susan chewed on her lower lip. “Are you sure you want to go it alone with Randall Rupe?”
“No, I’d love to have you there, but we don’t have a choice.” I slapped her shoulder. “Now, go find those boys.”
Susan and Melvin rushed out the door. Jack ambled out in their wake, but William stopped by the door. “Chief, thank you.”
“For what?”
“For giving that bastard Beaver what he deserved.”
I studied William’s face. “What’d he do to you?”
William dropped his gaze. “We had a Christmas party one night a bunch of years ago and we all got drunk. He…um…my ex-wife was drunk, you know? And he took advantage of that.”
I pursed my lips. “I’m sorry, William. Had I known that, I would’ve hit him three times.”
“I appreciate you saying that.” William waved goodbye to Lindsey on his way out the door.
I grabbed a fresh notepad and drove to Randall’s dealership.
CHAPTER 35
I found Randall Rupe in his office and he looked surprised to see me. “Chief, what are you doing here?”
I helped myself to a chair, sat, and said, “I need to talk to you about Hays Cain’s murder.”
Randall’s face twisted into a scowl. “I told you yesterday that I didn’t know anything.”
“Who’d you hear it from?”
“What are you talking about? Who did I hear what from?”
“You said you heard the rumors about a body being found and you figured it was Hays.” I leaned an elbow onto his desk. “Who’d you hear it from?”
Randall’s eyes became slits. “I don’t remember, Chief, but I don’t like your tone.”
I waved him off. “You’ll get used to it. Now, are you saying you don’t remember who told you Hays was dead two days ago?”
“That’s right.”
“I see.” I scratched my nose. “Your best friend dies and you don’t remember how you found out about it?”
“Sure, I know how—someone called me.”
“Right, but you don’t remember who?”
“Of course not. I talk to hundreds of people every day.”
“What did you do Friday?”
“Last Friday?”
I tilted my head and lifted an eyebrow. “Did you think I meant next Friday? Yes, I want to know what you did last Friday.”
“Beginning when?”
“Early that morning.”
Randall cleared his throat. “Well, I cut grass first thing in the morning. The weather was nice for it. Then I went to the restaurant and checked on the place. Everything was fine, so I left.”
“Where’d you go?”
“Excuse me?”
I smirked. “I know you heard me—where’d you go after you left Hays’ girlfriend’s house?”
Randall’s face turned red. “I didn’t say anything about Hays or his girlfriend. I said I left the restaurant.”
“Fair enough. Where’d you go?”
r /> “When?”
“When you left the restaurant?”
“Oh, I went home. Straight home, as far as I can remember.”
I clucked my tongue. “That’s not entirely true, is it?”
“Are you calling me a liar?”
“I didn’t,” I said, “but I can if you need me to.”
Randall Rupe glared across the desk at me. “I think it’s time for you to leave.”
I met his gaze with a cold one of my own, shaking my head. “I’m not going anywhere until I get the answers I’m looking for.”
“Do you know who you’re talking to?”
“Quite frankly, I don’t give a shit who I’m talking to.”
Randall pounded his fist on the desk and stood to his feet, as he pointed to the door. “Get out of here now!”
I rose and leaned close to Randall. “If you don’t sit your ass down right this second, I’m going to take it as an act of aggression.”
Randall gulped and sank back into his chair. He shot a glance toward the phone in the corner. His fingers twitched. “I don’t think the mayor would be too happy about this,” he said in a shaky voice.
“This is a law enforcement matter. The mayor’s got nothing to do with it.” I settled back into my chair. “Now, tell me again where you went when you left the restaurant? And don’t say straight home because we both know that isn’t true.”
“I went home. You can ask my wife.”
“Don’t you remember going out on the water?”
Randall’s thick eyebrows lifted ever so slightly. “Why would I want to go out on the water? It’s the middle of summer and the fish aren’t even biting right now.”
“Good point. There’s no reason to go out on the water, unless you want to dump the body of a man you just killed.”
“I didn’t kill anyone!”
“Maybe not, but you definitely helped dump Hays Cain’s body—and I can prove it. At a minimum, you’re looking at principal to murder and life in prison without the benefit of parole, probation or suspension of sentence.” I waved my hand. “Enjoy your freedom while you can. It won’t last long.”
Randall only shook his head.
“If you tell me who actually killed Hays, maybe I can get the district attorney to go easy on you.”
“You’ve been in town just over a week. What makes you think you’ve got any clout with the DA?” Randall scoffed. “You can threaten to kick my ass and you can even arrest me, but it’ll never stick—and it’ll be me asking the DA to go easy on you.”
I sighed, as I rose to my feet. “Well, I guess I have no choice, then.”
Randall’s eyes were wary. “What are you doing?”
“You leave me no choice.” Taking a huge gamble, I pulled my cell phone out of my front pant pocket, set it on the desk and pressed the play button on the recorder. Randall’s voice bled through the internal speaker.
“You’ve been recording me the whole while?” Randall’s eyes widened. “That’s illegal! I’ll sue you!”
“You clearly know nothing about Louisiana law. But that’s the least of your worries.” I dug a compact disc out of my pants pocket and set it on the table. “Do you know what this is?”
“A disc.”
While Randall’s focus was on the disc, I eased my finger toward my phone and pressed the record button again. “Do you know what’s on the disc?”
Randall shook his head slowly, staring at the compact disc as though it were a bomb vest set to go off at any moment.
“This is a recording of you and another man dumping Hays’ body. It was recovered from Hays’ girlfriend’s phone.”
Randall smirked. “Yeah, right.”
“You don’t remember Hays reaching out from the grave and butt-dialing his girlfriend? She caught the whole conversation on her voicemail.” I walked around his desk and opened the compact disc port on his clock radio, slipped the disc in, and hit play. Randall’s face turned ash gray when he heard the voices. I nodded. “That’s definitely you and the killer on that recording.”
“You…you can’t tell that’s me.”
“Actually, I can.” I removed the disc from the player and returned it to my pocket. “I sent the original copy to the city to be enhanced, and they did a great job. My officer told me he can tell it’s you without a reference sample, but we’re going through the extra trouble of proving it’s you beyond any doubt, which is why I recorded you today. Once the lab gets this copy containing a known sample of your voice, they’ll be able to positively identify you as one of the men on this tape.”
“Wait, wait! Please, let me think about it.”
I shook my head. “Nothing to think about. You either tell me who killed Hays or I’m going to arrest you for accessory after the fact to murder and then I’m going to put out a press release saying you’re singing like a bird.”
“But that’s not true!”
“You think the media will care?” I decided to play dirty. After all, he was a murder suspect, and murder is dirty business. “You know what else? I’m going to leak to the press that you told your wife everything and I’m going to say she’s cooperating with the investigation.”
“But that’s not true! She doesn’t know anything.”
I shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not, but it’s my story and I’m sticking to it.”
“But…but they’ll kill her!”
“Who?”
Randall looked like a man who had been told he had minutes to live. His shoulders drooped; his eyes sagged.
I lifted my phone to show him it was recording again. “You said, ‘They’ll kill her.’ Who’ll kill her?”
Randall’s face twisted in desperation. After a long moment, he sighed and nodded his resignation. “Okay, I’ll talk. Just leave my wife out of this. She had nothing to do with it.”
“As long as you tell me who killed Hays Cain and Kelly Dykes, I’ll forget you were even married.”
“If I talk, you’ve got to get my wife someplace safe.”
“You’d better not feed me a line of shit.”
“I won’t.”
“I’ll have to verify your information—”
“Call Chloe Rushing. She can verify it.”
My heart skipped a beat at the mention of her name. “What’s she got to do with this?”
“I called her. Gave her some information without naming myself.” Randall scowled. “I’m serious, Chief. They’ll kill me and my wife if they know I talked.”
“Who’s ‘they’?”
Randall pursed his lips. “Can I have a cigarette to calm my nerves? Then I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”
“Sure, smoke away.”
Randall stood and started to walk around his desk. “I have to get my pack of cigarettes out of my car.”
“Not without me.” I followed him through the back door and to his car, watched carefully as he leaned in and retrieved a pack of cigarettes, kept my hand close to my pistol.
Randall tapped the pack of cigarettes against the palm of his left hand and a cigarette slipped out. He tossed the pack on the seat of his car and pushed the car door closed. I relaxed. Randall lit the cigarette and took a long drag from it.
He shoved the lighter into his front pant pocket. The door to the shop opened, and I turned to see a mechanic exit with a large cardboard box. He nodded at me, and I nodded back. I turned toward Randall, sucked a lungful of air, choked on it—he had removed a small pistol from his pocket and was shoving it up toward his chin.
“Holy shit!” the mechanic screamed, and the box fell from his hands.
“Drop the gun!” I ordered, lunging forward. It was too late. Randall pulled the trigger and the bullet entered near the right side of his jaw line. He collapsed to the ground, convulsing. I dropped to my knees beside him and cursed out loud, reaching for the bloody hole. Randall’s body struggled against death’s chokehold, but after taking a final wheezing breath, he lay still, eyes open and sightless.
“C
all an ambulance!” I hollered. Blood oozed from the wound in Randall’s jaw and began to saturate the front of his shirt. I felt for a pulse…there was none.
CHAPTER 36
It had taken an hour to calm Julie Rupe down enough for her to talk. She refused to sit and just paced back and forth in her living room, repeating the same phrase, “I just can’t believe he would leave me alone like this. That cowardly bastard!”
“Honey, you’re not alone,” her white-haired, frail mother said, trying to calm her, but it was no use.
I waited patiently, questions swimming in my mind. I had tossed Randall’s office, but found nothing of evidentiary value. I glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner of the room. Three o’clock. When I’d called Susan earlier to let her know about Randall’s suicide, she’d told me they hadn’t made any progress in locating the McKenzie boys. I wanted to call her back while waiting for Julie Rupe to calm down enough to take a statement from her, but thought better of it.
It was another fifteen minutes before she sat beside her mother and looked up at me, face streaked with tears and flushed with sorrow. “Why did he do this? Why did he leave me?”
“I’m very sorry for your pain, ma’am. If you’re ready, I have a few questions for you that might help us understand what happened.”
“Randall left me all alone—that’s what happened! Just like he did when our son died. He’s a coward!”
I allowed her to settle down somewhat and asked about Randall leaving when their son died.
“He was emotionally distant. Would drink constantly.” She pointed to a recliner in the corner of the room. “He would just sit there and drink. Sure, he’d still go to work and did his job well, but when he’d get home he’d die in that chair. We quit doing things on the weekends. Didn’t take family vacations anymore. He just left me all alone.”
Guilt tugged at me as I witnessed how one man’s actions could affect the lives of everyone around him. “Had he ever threatened to kill himself?”
“Many times—back then. It wasn’t until recently that he quit drinking, and he hasn’t threatened suicide in about six months.”
“So, he’d gotten better?”
Julie rolled her eyes. “In one way, yes, but he was still distant. That didn’t change. Instead of sitting there getting drunk and ignoring me, he was always off at some secret meeting or working late at the dealership.”