London Carter Boxed Set: Books 1 - 3

by BJ Bourg

  “Did you know about Beth LeDoux?”

  “I did.”

  “What about the sexually transmitted disease?”

  Evelyn looked past me toward the door, as though making sure it was closed. She leaned forward and dropped her voice to a whisper. “There was talk that he passed something along to Beth and her husband found out about it. Well, her husband found out she was cheating, but he didn’t know with whom. He came in here and shot the wrong man. He was trying to get us to say who was sleeping with his wife, but no one would do it. He became angry and threatened to execute every man in the building until he was sure he had killed the right one.” She paused and I thought I saw a tear spill from her eye. When she casually brushed at her face with the palm of her hand, I knew I was correct. “He was about to do it—he was going to kill all of us—when one of the police officers shot him from outside.”

  I frowned as more tears fell down her face. “It’s okay, ma’am.”

  “No, it is not okay. It was so very sad what happened here, and we still have not healed from it. We were close like a family and to lose two family members in one day…”

  I was silent for a minute or two, allowing her some time to grieve. When she looked up, I asked if she knew of anyone who might wish to harm Wilton.

  “I believe it was the Lord who took him away.”

  “The Lord?”

  “A man’s life was taken because of a sin Mr. Wilton committed,” Evelyn explained. “So, I believe this is the Lord’s way of making it right.”

  Not quite knowing how to respond to that theory, I simply nodded. Considering we hadn’t ascertained a cause of death yet, I wasn’t about to argue the point with her.

  The door suddenly opened behind me and I turned to see Dawn walk into the room. “Does the name Cade Baryon mean anything to you?” she asked Evelyn.

  “I have never heard that name before.”

  Dawn turned to me. “That’s the friend who called about selling the car. I reached out to him from the dealership phone—pretending to be a saleswoman—and I told him Wilton had passed away, but I found the information about his car on Wilton’s desk. He said the car is still available and I can come down and look at it if I want, but he won’t be around until tomorrow morning. He lives on Third Street in East Payneville, last trailer on the left.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Evelyn raised her hand to get our attention. “This man who calls himself Cade, is he Mr. Wilton’s friend from school?”

  I looked at Dawn and she nodded. “I believe it is.”

  Evelyn frowned. “Please tell him how sorry I am for his loss. He was always so polite when he called and I am sure he is in pain.”

  We stood and I shook Evelyn’s hand. “Thank you for your time. We’ll be back in touch if we need anything.”

  She smiled, but there was a troubled look on her face. “Many bad things have happened here lately. Should I be worried? Should we all be worried?”

  “Not yet,” I said. “For all we know, Wilton could’ve died of a heart attack or some other natural cause.”

  That didn’t seem to calm her, and I guessed she was still thinking it was some sort of curse.

  I followed Dawn outside, where the sun was starting to dip toward the west, and we climbed into my truck. I pulled out of the parking lot and headed south to the Seasville Substation. I hadn’t gone a mile when Dawn got a phone call. When she hung up, her brown eyes narrowed.

  “That was dispatch,” she said. “I got them to run Cade’s name for hits and history…he’s got felony warrants.”

  “For what?”

  “Attempted manslaughter and resisting arrest. He failed to appear for his court date.” She shook her head. “If he thinks we’re cops, there could be trouble.”

  I knew she was right.

  “Can you text the exact address and directions to me?” I asked. “I’ll forward it to Jerry and Ray and get them to scout the area tonight. They can provide over-watch protection when we go in tomorrow.”

  Dawn nodded and her thumbs flew across the screen of her phone. Within seconds, my phone chirped to indicate I’d received the message. I then asked about an undercover vehicle for us. “If we drive up in my truck or your car, he’ll know we’re cops right away.”

  “Already covered,” she said. “I called the motor pool and they have a jacked up Tahoe with dealer plates waiting for us. We’ll pick it up on the way to the target location.”

  We rode in silence for a few minutes, and it was then that I noticed how much my stomach was grumbling. Preferring not to eat alone if I could spend a little more time with Dawn, I asked if she wanted to grab a bite before I dropped her off at the substation.

  “That sounds great,” she said. “I’ve been starving since we left the morgue.”

  CHAPTER 12

  It was late in the afternoon when we walked into Bayouside Burgers, a locally-owned hamburger joint just south of the Seasville Substation. I led the way to a far corner and took the seat with my back to the wall and facing the entrance.

  “What if I wanted to sit with my back to the wall?” Dawn asked.

  I hesitated, studying her face. I always sat with my back to the wall and facing the entrance, or I didn’t sit. I’d walked out of restaurants many times because the corner table was already taken. I slowly stood to my feet. “If you want the seat, I’ll move—”

  Dawn socked me playfully on the shoulder and laughed. “I’m messing with you.”

  I laughed and sat back down, relieved. The waitress came over within seconds and took our drink order. As I looked over the menu, which had a dozen different kinds of hamburgers, I stole an occasional glance at Dawn. The light in the restaurant was dim, but the sun streamed through the window of the front door and lit up her eyes. I’d never seen a more beautiful woman, but her beauty was secondary to her strength of character.

  I’d always loved dating strong women, because they were independent and didn’t require much attention. Many of them were sexually adventurous, which was fun and exciting, but I’d learned that their wild streak wasn’t conducive to a monogamous relationship. It had always been fine by me, because I’d never met a woman who could settle me down, and I was usually ready to move on long before they were.

  Dawn was different. She was quietly confident and career-driven. While she didn’t seem to mind the attention most men gave her, she didn’t entertain it. If she did have a wild streak, it was reserved for the special man in her life—whoever that lucky bastard might be.

  The waitress returned with our drinks and placed them on napkins. After she’d taken our order and walked away, Dawn grabbed the salt shaker and lifted her drink. I watched in amusement as she salted the napkin before returning her drink to it.

  “Is it too bland for you?” I asked. “Personally, I eat my napkins with ketchup.”

  She smiled. “The salt keeps the glass from sticking to it.”

  “Really?”

  “It’s an old trick I learned when I was bartending back home.”

  “You were a bartender?”

  “Yep…all through college.” Dawn tilted her glass and stared into it, as though looking back in time. “It helped pay my room and board, and it prepared me for police work.”

  “How so?”

  “You know how college kids can get. I was breaking up fights every other night.”

  “Did the place have bouncers?”

  “I was quicker to the action than they were.” Dawn leaned across the table and titled her face upward, pointing to a scar on her chin. “See that?”

  Her skin looked so smooth it could’ve been silk. I wanted to trace my finger across the scar, but didn’t. Instead, I just nodded.

  “That beer bottle was meant for a member of the opposing football team. This outsider thought it would be cool to come into our bar and dance with some of the local girls after his team had just stomped a mud hole into our guys on the field.”

  “Damn! What did you do?”


  “What any self-respecting lady would do…I grabbed a bigger bottle and smashed it across the bastard’s teeth.”

  “You hit the player from the other team with a bottle?” I asked, my eyes wide.

  “No, silly…the local bastard who threw the bottle.”

  We talked for about fifteen minutes longer and our food finally appeared. As we ate, we continued talking about our past lives. I told her what I remembered about my siblings and parents before they died, and she told me what life was like growing up in the mountains of Arkansas.

  “How often do you go back home to visit?” I asked.

  “I haven’t been back in years.” She frowned. “I just get so busy, you know?”

  I didn’t buy her explanation, but I nodded anyway. While I could tell there was something she wasn’t saying, I didn’t feel it was my place to pry.

  When we were done eating, I insisted on paying the bill, and then we walked out into the cool evening air. It was dark and mosquitoes were swarming around the lights overhead, but they weren’t bothering us much. A loud grunt sounded from the bayou behind the restaurant and we both looked at each other. It sounded like a big alligator.

  “Want to walk out back and see it?” Dawn asked.

  I had nowhere pressing to be, so I nodded and followed her along the wrap-around porch to the back of the restaurant. There were wooden benches lined up in front of the railing, so we sat down and searched for the gator. The moonlight sparkled against the gentle ripples in the water and the movement made it harder to find the head of the alligator, but Dawn finally pointed it out.

  “Damn, it’s big,” I said.

  She nodded, and rested her elbows against the railing. “Have you ever been married or engaged?”

  The question took me off guard, but I answered immediately. “No to both of them.” I sat there for a few seconds wondering why she’d asked it. Not sure what else to say, I asked if she’d ever been married or engaged.

  “No,” she said softly. “I never trusted myself enough.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She looked directly in my eyes. I felt as though she could see down to my very soul.

  “My dad used to beat the shit out of my mom.” She turned away and stared out over the bayou. “Hell, for all I know, he could be beating her as we sit here talking.”

  “Wow. I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “It’s why I dropped out of college and moved away.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Dawn sighed. “He was arrested a half dozen times for hitting her, but she’d always bail him out of jail and drop the charges afterward. Every damn time.”

  I suddenly began to understand why she’d felt the way she had about Cynthia Alvey.

  “My little brother, Darby, called me crying one night, saying he thought my dad was going to kill my mom.” Dawn shook her head. “I was so pissed that I left the bar and hauled ass home, hell-bent and determined to put an end to it once and for all. When I came through the door, my mom was sitting on the sofa crying and bleeding. Her face was a mess and her arm looked broken. I searched the house and found my dad snoring in their bed, as though he didn’t have a care in the world. I stood there watching him for a few minutes, trying as hard as I could to come up with just one reason why I shouldn’t…”

  Dawn’s voice trailed off and she continued staring out at the water. When she didn’t continue on her own, I asked, “Shouldn’t what?”

  She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly before continuing. “When I was young, my grandfather had given me his old Browning ten gauge shotgun. I grabbed it out of my closet and loaded it before going look for my dad. He had hit me right before I left for college and I swore he’d never put his hands on me again.” She leaned back and stared down at her open hands. “I aimed my shotgun at him and wrapped my finger around the trigger. I was going to do it. I was absolutely going to kill him and put an end to my mother’s suffering.”

  She quit talking and left me hanging. After a minute, she looked up at me and her eyes sparkled with tears.

  “I pulled the trigger, London. In my heart, I killed my dad that night.”

  My brows furrowed. “In your heart? So, you didn’t really kill him?”

  “The only thing that saved him was my brother. He had come in the room and was standing behind me. He knew I was going to do it. He begged me not to, but I was so enraged I didn’t even hear him. He jumped on my back just as I squeezed the shot off. The slug ripped a hole in the wall about eight inches above my dad’s body.” She shook her head. “A lot changed that night, the worst being that Darby never spoke to me again.”

  I sat there stunned. “What did your dad say? What did he do?”

  “He didn’t even wake up. When my ears stopped ringing, I started thinking more clearly. I realized my life would’ve been over had that slug hit him, and that’s when I decided to leave Arkansas for good.”

  “How’d you end up here?” I asked. “We’re half an hour from the end of the earth.”

  “A friend from college landed a job at a local pharmacy here in Seasville. After I told her what had happened, she offered to let me stay with her until I could find work.” Dawn stood and leaned her back on the railing, looking down at me. “I saw an ad in the local paper about an opening at the sheriff’s office. I’d never thought about police work until that very moment. When I saw that ad, I knew instantly it’s what I wanted to do, so I signed up and here I am.”

  “Just like that? You never thought about being a cop until you saw that newspaper ad?”

  “Right. That’s when I realized I wanted to stop men from beating their wives.” She sighed. “Since then, I’ve realized you can’t help someone who doesn’t want to be helped—like Cynthia Alvey and my own mom.”

  I smiled to myself. The more I learned about Dawn, the more I admired her. Most interested men would’ve probably been terrified to learn she’d almost killed her dad, but I respected what she had attempted to do. I suddenly frowned, remembering something she’d said.

  “Earlier, you mentioned you didn’t trust yourself enough to get married or be engaged,” I said.

  “If I get married and my husband puts his hands on me in anger…well, I don’t trust myself not to kill him.”

  Dawn’s phone rang and interrupted the rest of her thought. She pushed off of the railing and answered, pacing back and forth in front of me as she talked. When she hung up, she spun on her heels to face me. “That was Doctor Fitch…Wilton Michot was murdered.”

  “Murdered?”

  Dawn’s head bobbed up and down. “Someone stuck an ice pick through his ear and then shoved a cotton swab deep inside to keep any blood from leaking out.”

  CHAPTER 13

  Tuesday, October 2

  When Dawn and I drove up to Cade Baryon’s house, he was standing on the blacktop street in front of an old white Delta 88. I didn’t know what looked worse, him or the car. He appeared to be about Wilton’s age, but more weathered, and his jeans were dirty. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, so Dawn and I were blessed with a grotesque view of his jailhouse tattoos, all of which were faded and looked like something from a child’s notebook. His white and black beard was scruffy and his hair unkempt.

  “Hey, there, beautiful,” he called to Dawn as we stepped out of the loaner Tahoe. “Why’d you have to go and bring your boyfriend?”

  I saw Dawn’s eyes flash and I thought she was going to knock the piss out of Cade, but she forced a smile and nodded her greeting.

  I quickly took in my surroundings. The Delta 88 was parked in front of two trailers that were side-by-side and perpendicular to the street. A makeshift fence surrounded the property around the two trailers, and it was the only thing keeping a thick pit bull from getting at us. The anger the dog felt was evident in his hoarse bark.

  I indicated with my head toward the dog. “That’s a pretty cat.”

  Cade scowled and cocked his head sideways. “Are you shitting me? Y
ou don’t know the difference between a dog and a cat?”

  “He’s just being funny,” Dawn said, trying to sound friendly. “So, is this the beauty Wilton was talking about?”

  Cade nodded and slapped the hood of the rusted car. It had to be twenty-five years old. “I hate to part with her, but I’m hard up for cash and Wilton told me he’d take her off my hands.”

  Dawn chewed on her lower lip and slowly walked around the car, pretending to look it up and down. I casually glanced toward the trailers, looking beyond them toward the thick trees and bushes that surrounded the property.

  Jerry had set up in a tree east of us, while Ray had positioned himself across the street to the south and behind us. Jerry had radioed when we drove down the street to let us know everything looked quiet. Other than Cade and the intense pit bull, they hadn’t seen any movement from the property.

  “Did you and Wilton discuss a price?” Dawn asked, coming full circle around the car and stopping in front of Cade.

  “Yeah, he said he’d give me five for it.”

  “Five hundred…okay, that seems fair.”

  “Five thousand,” Cade said, spitting the words.

  I saw the shock on Dawn’s face. We weren’t planning on giving him anything except metal bracelets, but it was clear she didn’t think the car was worth close to what Cade was asking.

  “Are you trying to pull one over on me?” she asked. “There’s no way Wilton would’ve given five grand for this car. It’s—what?—nearly thirty years old? Probably has half a million miles on it.”

  “Wilton and I had a special arrangement,” Cade said slowly. “If you’re really from the dealership, you would know that.”

  “Well, his own secretary didn’t know your name, so it seems Wilton was a bit private about his relationship with you.” Dawn crossed her arms in front of her chest. “By the way, what exactly was the nature of your relationship with him? Now that he’s gone, you’ll be dealing with me and we need to understand each other fully.”