Clint Wolf Boxed Set: Books 1 - 3

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Clint Wolf Boxed Set: Books 1 - 3 Page 50

by BJ Bourg


  Jolene screamed as the attacker shoved the knife into her flesh and through to the other side of her neck. Her eyes widened in disbelief and shock as she began gargling and struggling for air. She was fading fast, but aware enough to know she was drowning in her own blood.

  CHAPTER 2

  Twenty years later…

  Monday, October 26

  Susan Wilson’s House – Mechant Loup, Louisiana

  Susan Wilson moved lightly on the balls of her feet, circling the red punching bag like a mountain lion ready to pounce. She was a sergeant with the Mechant Loup Police Department by day, but at night she moonlighted as a cage fighter. Given a choice, she would choose fighting over police work any day of the week, and that probably had a lot to do with the fact that her dad had been a professional boxer when he was alive.

  As Susan moved, the wooden porch creaked under her weight, but it provided just the right amount of bounce and the surface was just rough enough against her feet to replicate the canvas of a fighting cage. Her pink mixed martial arts gloves were worn from years of training, but she refused to replace them because they felt like a natural part of her hands. She kept them held high, ready to block any blows from her imaginary opponent.

  Her brown hair was braided into cornrows and tied off into twin pigtails behind her head. She knew it wasn’t the most attractive hairstyle—her mom had informed her of that fact more than a dozen times over the years—but it was practical. The sun was setting to the east over the swamps and there was a hint of coolness on the evening breeze—a sign that autumn was around the corner. While she had a lot to worry about, a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as the wind caressed her face. She felt wild and free, training in the open air of her front porch. If I just focus on staying in this moment, she thought, I can make it last forever.

  Long, tanned legs flexed under her fight shorts as she moved to the left, and then to the right, eyeing the bag with bad intentions. Without warning, she suddenly sprang forward and executed a violent combination of kicks and right punches that made the bag bend and swing under the impact of the blows. The chain that held the bag from the ceiling rattled its protest, but droned to a low creak as she circled away, looking for another opening in her imaginary opponent.

  She’d been training for an hour and had managed to avoid throwing strikes with her left hand—despite how tempting it was. It was second nature for her to follow a straight right punch with a left hook, but she wanted the wound on her chest to heal so she could get back in the cage sooner, rather than later. She wasn’t sure if that’s what the doctor meant by “taking it easy”, but she thought it was a hell of a compromise, because lying around and doing nothing was not an option.

  Susan was about to explode into another combination when her cell phone rang. She thought about ignoring it, but then figured it might be work-related, so she ripped off her right glove and snatched the phone from the yellow bench against the wall. She glanced at the number and saw that it was Melvin Saltzman, one of her fellow officers.

  “If you’re not calling to offer up your body to the sweet science of me kicking your ass, then it had better be an emergency,” she said. “I was fifteen rounds into a twenty-round workout and you know how much I hate to be interrupted.”

  Melvin stammered on the other end and finally managed an apology.

  Susan laughed. “I’m kidding. What’s up?”

  Melvin was quiet for a long moment. When he spoke, she could tell he was troubled. “I know it’s been a week, and all, but this thing with William still has me freaked out.”

  Susan sighed and sat on the bench, tugging her other glove off in the process. “Yeah. Me, too.”

  “I never saw it coming.”

  “None of us did, Melvin…none of us.”

  “If he can go bad…”

  When Melvin didn’t speak again for several seconds, Susan asked if he was still there.

  “I’m here.” After another pause, Melvin finally said, “If he can go bad, what’s to keep me from going bad?”

  Susan laughed. “Trust me, there’s nothing bad about you.”

  “No, I’m serious. Beaver seemed like a good cop, but then he went and did what he did, and now William. What if I’m next?”

  “Look, we might not have known they were bad, but they did…in their heart of hearts, they knew they were bad.”

  That seemed to satisfy Melvin and he turned the subject to work. “Do you miss me on the day shift?”

  He was working the night shift with Amy Cooke, filling the spot that had been vacated by William Tucker’s arrest. “Not one bit.”

  “I bet Chief Wolf misses me.”

  “Nope, Clint was telling me just today that he’s glad…”

  The humming of a car engine drew Susan’s attention to the street that led to her house. It was a Chateau Parish Sheriff’s Office patrol cruiser and it was followed by a state police car. There were two deputies in the patrol cruiser and one trooper inside the state car. They turned onto her dirt driveway and drove right up to the house, the three officers staring intently at her as they approached.

  Melvin was still talking in Susan’s ear, but she couldn’t make out what he was saying. She stood slowly to her feet as the deputies stepped out of the cruiser and strode toward her porch steps. The trooper remained seated in his car, which aroused her curiosity.

  “Can I help you?” Susan asked, as dread started to fill her throat with bile. Was it her mom? Had she been in a car accident? If so, why wasn’t the trooper getting out of his car?

  Melvin stopped rambling and asked what was going on.

  One of the deputies cleared his throat. “Sergeant Wilson…um…I don’t know how to say this in an easy way, so I’ll just cut to it. District Attorney Bill Head just called and informed our office that you’ve been indicted by the grand jury for second degree murder. He ordered us to take you into custody immediately.”

  Susan’s jaw dropped. “What the hell?”

  The other deputy removed a set of handcuffs from a pouch behind his belt and stepped forward. “I’m sorry, Sarge, but you’ll need to come with us.”

  Susan’s mind raced. “Melvin, call Clint right away.” She knew he would know what to do.

  “I’m on it!” Melvin hollered.

  The first deputy pulled the phone from her hand and tucked it into his pocket while the second deputy grabbed her left wrist. For a brief moment, Susan thought how easy it would be to strip her hand from the deputy’s grip and knock him unconscious, but she quickly dismissed the idea. This battle would have to be fought in court—with lawyers. As the deputies pushed her arms behind her back, she lifted one of her feet. “Can I at least put on some shoes?”

  “We’ll get a pair for you when we lock up your house.”

  Susan glanced at the trooper, who had stepped out of his car and was standing beside it. “Why is he here?” she asked.

  “He was in the area and came along in case you’d give us trouble.”

  Susan was numb as the deputies ratcheted the cuffs around her wrists and led her to the back seat of the patrol car. This was not the way her career was supposed to end, and for a brief moment she felt an overwhelming sense of failure. Keep your chin up, she told herself. You did nothing wrong!

  CHAPTER 3

  As soon as Melvin had called and given me the news about Susan’s arrest, I’d jumped into my Tahoe and headed for Bill Hedd’s house, leaving my girlfriend, Chloe Rushing, and my German shepherd, Achilles, wondering what was going on. I was angry that Bill hadn’t given me a courtesy call. As Mechant Loup’s police chief and Susan’s supervisor, I should’ve been made aware that one of my officers was about to be arrested.

  I turned left on Main Street and raced across the Mechant Loup Bridge, dialing Isabel Compton’s cell phone as I drove. Isabel was Hedd’s first assistant district attorney and one of only two allies I had in the DA’s office. Her phone rang twice before a man picked up.

  “This is Clint Wol
f calling for Mrs. Compton,” I said. “I’m the police chief for—”

  “I know who you are, Chief,” the man said. “I’m Izzy’s husband. Hold on just a minute—she’ll be right with you.”

  I only had to wait a few seconds for Isabel to pick up. “Dear God, Clint, I just found out about Susan.”

  “What’s going on? Have you found out why he’s doing this?”

  “I have no clue. I just got off the phone with Reggie and he’s at a loss, too. He said he didn’t even know it was going down until one of his buddies from the sheriff’s office called him.” There was a pause and then Isabel asked me what I was going to do.

  “I don’t know,” was all I said, and then disconnected the call. I tossed my phone to the center console and placed both hands on the steering wheel, gripping it so hard my knuckles were white.

  I was several miles north of Mechant Loup when my phone rang. I glanced at it and saw Chloe’s name displayed on the screen. I didn’t answer. I was too angry to talk and I needed time to figure out what I was going to say once I got to the district attorney’s house. I didn’t think anything would change his mind, but I had to try. And whatever I did, I knew I needed to be levelheaded, because Susan’s future and her freedom hung in the balance.

  When I finally arrived at his house in Western Chateau, I coasted up the long and curvy driveway—passing two large ponds and several ancient oaks on the way—and brought my Tahoe to a stop in front of the cobblestone steps that led to the giant brick home. Taking a deep breath, I jumped from the driver’s seat and jogged up the steps. Within a minute of knocking, I heard heavy footsteps approaching from the other side of the door. They came to a stop and I figured Hedd was looking through the peephole. I tilted my head down, hoping he couldn’t see me, but it was no use and he didn’t care. He flung the door open and bellowed, “What in hell’s name are you doing at my house?”

  “Sir, I was hoping to have a word with you.” I shoved my hands deep into the pockets of my jeans to let him know I wasn’t there for trouble. “If it’s okay with you, that is.”

  The hard lines in his face softened a little and he ran a hand through his Elvis Presley hairdo. “It’s late. What do you want?”

  “It’s about Susan,” I began, still not sure what to say. “I was hoping you’d reconsider your decision to charge her with murder. She was only doing her job and she saved my life. She was justified by law to use deadly force to protect—”

  “If you’re going to try and lecture me on the law, I’ll end this conversation right now,” Bill said, his thick jowls flapping as he spoke. “I don’t need the sermon and I certainly don’t need some cop telling me how to do my job.”

  “You’re right.” My eyes must’ve been bloodshot and I knew there was smoke coming out of my ears. “Can you please reconsider your decision to charge her with murder?”

  “Sorry,” he said, a smug look on his face, “but it wasn’t my decision. The grand jury indicted her—not me. It’s really out of my hands.”

  “But you could dismiss the charges if you wanted to.”

  “There you go again trying to tell me how to do my job.” Bill grinned, but his eyes remained cold. “I tell you what…if you don’t like the job I’m doing, why don’t you run against me in the next election? Oh, wait a minute…you’re not qualified to be DA.” Bill stepped back into his house and reached for the door. “Now get off my property.”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  He paused, leaning against the doorframe. “Because it’s my job to put murderers away.”

  I pulled my hands from my pockets and clenched my fists, a move that didn’t go unnoticed. Bill squinted. “You’d better think long and hard about your next move, son,” he said. “Every wrong move you make is going to cost Susan more years behind bars.”

  It took everything in me to turn and walk away, but that’s exactly what I did. I was so angry I thought my eyes would start bleeding, but I was thinking clear enough to head to the Chateau Parish Detention Center. I arrived just as the arresting deputies were preparing to remove Susan from the back seat of their cruiser. A state police car was parked behind them and a trooper was watching as they removed the seatbelt from around Susan.

  I left my door open and bolted from my SUV, calling out to Susan as I hurried to their location. The trooper spun around when he heard me. One hand was on his weapon and the other hand was extended out in my direction.

  “Sir, stop right there!” he commanded in a loud voice. “Back away slowly!”

  I stopped, but didn’t back up. I introduced myself and pointed to Susan. “That’s my officer in the squad car. I intend to speak with her before they bring her inside.”

  The trooper moved forward in a menacing manner and stopped when he was a few feet from me. “You will not have any interaction with the prisoner. Is that understood?”

  I glanced down. There was a SWAT pin attached to his uniform shirt, but I hardly noticed it because my eyes were fixated on his nametag. I recognized the name immediately—he was the state police SWAT cop who shot Achilles when they raided my house last Fourth of July. I’d thought long and hard about what I would do when our paths ever crossed, and most of those fantasies ended with him on the ground bleeding.

  “You’re the little prick who shot my dog!” I looked up from his nametag and fixed him with cold eyes. “I’ve been looking forward to the day I run into you.”

  In my peripheral vision, I saw the two deputies straighten and look in our direction. The trooper’s face turned a shade whiter. “Chief, look, I…I swear it was an accident. He came out of nowhere and his bark…it…he sounded so big and I didn’t know what was going on. I love dogs and I really—”

  “You shot his dog?” one of the deputies asked incredulously.

  The trooper stammered. “I…I didn’t mean to.”

  “That’s some bullshit,” the other deputy said, waving me forward. I don’t know if he really felt bad for me or if it was the diplomat in him merely trying to diffuse a problem, but he said, “For that, I’ll give you two minutes with Sergeant Wilson, but I’ll want to search you first. You know, just for our protection.”

  I nodded my understanding and then glared one last time at the trooper, who turned and hurried toward his car. I held out my hands while the deputy frisked me. When he was satisfied, I slid into the back seat of his squad car, next to Susan. It broke my heart to see her in the back of a patrol cruiser with her hands cuffed behind her back. She was wearing workout clothes and her feet were bare. “Are you okay?” I asked.

  I knew she must’ve been upset—had to be—but she forced a smile. I realized she was probably doing that more for my benefit than her own. “My nose itches,” she said, “but I’m fine otherwise.”

  I reached out to scratch her nose, but she cocked her head sideways and smirked. “That was a handcuff joke, Clint.”

  “How can you joke at a time like this?”

  “What other options do I have? Cry? Get angry?” She shook her head. “I don’t know what I did to Hedd, but I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me sweat. I know that my actions were justified, and I’ll never apologize for it or regret it. Hell, I’d do it again tomorrow.”

  My chest flooded with admiration as I stared into her dark brown eyes. I doubted I could be as courageous in a similar situation, and I hated that she was there because of me. “How can you be so calm?”

  “Clint, I’m terrified on the inside, but I won’t let that bastard know it and he’ll never break me.”

  “Well, I’m getting you out of here.”

  Susan shot a glance at the two deputies who stood nearby watching us. “What’re you going to do about them?”

  I shook my head as a smile played across her mouth, pushing her dimple deep into her cheek. “I’m bonding you out and then hiring the best lawyer around. You’re not going down for saving my life.”

  “Where will you get a million dollars?”

  I gasped. “You
r bond’s a million dollars?”

  “It is.”

  I sank back in my seat. Where in the hell was I going to come up with that much money? Like a fool, I’d put up my entire savings as reward money for a previous case, and it would take me at least a year to build it back up. Of course, that still wouldn’t be enough to bond her out. As I sat there thinking, one of the deputies approached my door and waved for me to get out of the car. “We need to bring her inside, Chief.”

  I looked back at Susan and nodded. “I won’t rest until I get you out of here.”

  She smiled. “I appreciate it, Clint, but I don’t want you borrowing money for this. I’ll have my day in court and the truth will come out then.”

  “That could be a year from now—you can’t stay in jail for a year!”

  “I don’t have much choice, now do I?”

  A thought suddenly came to me. “I might know a way—”

  “Chief,” the deputy said in a stern voice, “we need to go…now.”

  CHAPTER 4

  It was late when I got home, but Chloe was wide awake. “I tried calling you a bunch of times,” she said.

  I sank to the sofa and rubbed Achilles’ head as I recounted everything that had happened. Chloe gasped when I mentioned Susan’s arrest. “Are you kidding? She was arrested?”

  “Please don’t report that. It’ll get out eventually—it’s unavoidable—but I don’t want it coming from you.”

  She was thoughtful, but finally nodded. We talked for a few minutes longer and then got ready for bed. I poured myself a glass of vodka—she had mentioned before that it looked better than drinking from the bottle—and took a long drink before spreading a blanket on the floor beside the bed.

 

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