by BJ Bourg
The blade was halfway through the limb when the chain began to stick a little. I backed off and changed my angle of attack, cutting in from forty-five degrees above my original cut. Within seconds I broke through to the other side and released the trigger before the blade could dig into the mud. I backed out from under the tree and wiped the film of thick sawdust from my sweaty arms.
I glanced at the jacks. “Are they holding up?”
“Yeah,” Melvin said. “They’re looking good.”
I turned my attention to the space above Stella’s body. I gauged the distance between her body and the tree trunk to be about eight inches. Not much wiggle room.
“I’m going to cut the top part of the branch that’s holding Stella in place,” I said, and then pointed to her feet. “Get ready to pull her out. We might not have much time.”
Melvin and Rachael each grabbed one of Stella’s outstretched legs and nodded to let me know they were ready. I took a breath and crawled back under the tree, this time on my back so I could support the chainsaw and not cut Stella’s body.
“What about you?” Dawn asked. “How are you supposed to get out if it falls?”
“I’ll be fine,” I said, and smashed down on the trigger. As carefully as I could, I slid the blade of the chainsaw between the tree trunk and Stella’s body and went to work. As the chain sliced through the branch, it kicked a steady stream of thick sawdust in my face, causing me to close my eyes and purse my lips.
“Hey,” Dawn called. “It looks like the jack is moving.”
I only grunted and kept pushing the blade forward, knowing it had to break through to the other side at any second.
“London, I’m serious, it’s moving.” There was a sense of urgency to Dawn’s tone.
“I’m almost there,” I said, taking in a mouthful of tiny wood chips in the process. I began spitting the chips from my mouth, but it only made things worse. Suddenly, the chainsaw shot forward and I quickly released the trigger.
“London, get out of there!” Dawn hollered. “It’s slipping!”
I tried opening my eyes, but I was blinded by the sawdust. Although I couldn’t see, there was no mistaking the rumbling I felt as the tree crashed toward the ground.
CHAPTER 35
Friday, October 5
It was a little after midnight when Dawn stepped out of the shower. She dried up and walked to the mirror, where she stopped to inspect her face and hair. It had taken nearly an hour to wash every bit of the mud off, but it still felt like there were tiny clumps of crud stuck to her body, especially her scalp. And that smell of rotten muddy water…she couldn’t get it out of her nose.
Resisting the urge to take yet another shower, she dried her hair and dressed for bed. She let out a long sigh when she stretched out on top of the bedspread, too weary to pull it back. She couldn’t remember ever being so tired. Every muscle in her body felt like rubber and she had a hard time catching a deep breath. She’d heard that shortness of breath was a key indicator of a heart attack and, given the enormous amount of stress she’d undergone over the last thirty-something hours, she wouldn’t have been a bit surprised to find herself dead in the morning.
Although she was so tired, her body was tense and it took a while to finally relax into the mattress. She felt herself slipping away. She was aware of the pull-chain on the ceiling fan rattling gently against the globe and then she was out.
As Dawn slept, her mind began to wander and play tricks on her. She dreamed she was home again and her mom was telling her she had killed her dad in his sleep. She began comforting her mom and telling her it had been justified, that she had done what she had to do in order to survive. As she was comforting her mom, her brother ran into the room screaming that the jack had slipped out from under the car and killed their dad while he was changing the tire—
Dawn jerked to a seated position and stared wildly about her room, trying to figure out where she was. Sweat poured down her face and her hands shook as she remembered the hydraulic jack slipping out from under the tree. The thunderous cracking sound, the screams, the confusion…it all came flooding back and she leaned over the side of the bed and vomited on the floor.
Cursing out loud and covering her mouth with her hands, she hurried to the bathroom and leaned over the toilet. Her stomach convulsed and she threw up again. She stayed there until she was certain she was finished. Grabbing a towel from the countertop, she wiped her mouth and then sat there gasping. She felt as though she had no more energy, but she forced herself to get up and clean the mess on her floor. After brushing her teeth and rinsing with mouthwash, she looked at her phone.
Five o’clock! Damn, it feels like I’ve only been sleeping for ten minutes.
Realizing it was fruitless to go back to sleep, she showered again and dressed for work. Unable to eat, she skipped breakfast and drove toward the detective bureau.
It was still too early to go to work when she reached the detective bureau, so she headed for Cynthia Alvey’s house. She wasn’t sure what she’d do when she got there, but she knew she had to do something to save Cynthia. If arresting Hank wouldn’t work and Cynthia wouldn’t leave him, maybe she could try a different tack.
Dawn nodded her head when she saw Hank’s truck parked in the driveway. That’s good. He hasn’t left for work yet. She cruised by the Alvey home and parked on the corner. Leaving her flashers on, she stepped out of her car and walked briskly up the street. She had thought about leaving her pistol behind as a show of good faith, but quickly decided against it. She’d hate to pass up an opportunity to shoot Hank if given the chance.
She had just reached the front of their house when she heard the side door slam. She quickened her pace and rounded the corner just as Hank reached for the handle of his truck door. He didn’t see her until she was almost within arm’s reach. He jerked back and dropped his lunch pail when he saw her.
“What…what the hell are you doing here?”
Dawn raised both hands. “I just want to talk to you for a minute.”
Hank jerked a cell phone from his pocket. “If you take one step toward me I’m calling my lawyer. He’s already advised me to file a lawsuit, and I’m seriously contemplating it. If you’ve come here to harass me, then my mind is definitely made up.”
“I’m not here to harass you and I won’t come any closer.” Dawn took a deep breath, trying hard to hide her disdain. “I just need to ask you one question.”
“What?”
“Do you love Cynthia?”
Hank’s brow furrowed. “What kind of question is that?”
“Does that mean you don’t?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Well, then, do you love her?”
“Of course I love her.”
“If you love her, then stop hurting her.”
“I already told you, I didn’t hurt her. It was an accident. She fell and hurt herself.”
Dawn sighed, resisting the urge to get in his grill. “Okay, well, why don’t you make sure she doesn’t have any more accidents?”
Hank looked around, then jutted out his chin. “Why are you here?”
“I’m here to make sure Cynthia gets to enjoy her life in peace and happiness while she’s still healthy, rather than after she finds out she has terminal cancer. I’m here to make sure you stop beating your wife now—long before you find out she has cancer. If you stop after you find out she’s sick, it’ll seem contrived and you’ll end up regretting all the wasted years you spent kicking her ass instead of loving on her.”
“Cynthia has cancer?”
“No, but you should start acting like she does.”
Hank’s face twisted in confusion. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because my dad beat the shit out of my mom over the course of their entire marriage,” Dawn explained. “He just recently found out she has terminal cancer and only has a short time to live. So, he suddenly stops beating her and becomes the man she’s been wishing he could be. Do y
ou understand what I’m telling you?”
Hank nodded slowly.
“It took her dying for him to stop hitting her.” Dawn spat the words. “That’s sick! You know what’s even sicker? Although my mom’s dying, she’s happier than she’s ever been—just because that bastard is finally treating her like a lady.” Dawn took a step closer to Hank and shoved a finger in his pale face. “Don’t turn into my dad. Either stop beating on Cynthia or leave her. She doesn’t deserve this shit and you don’t deserve her. But if she insists on being with you, then by God, treat her like a lady while she’s still alive and can appreciate it.”
Hank gulped and nodded.
Dawn wasn’t convinced her lecture had gotten through to him and she had more to say, but her phone rang and interrupted her.
“Don’t make me come back.” As Dawn spun and walked off, she jerked out her phone and answered. It was Doctor Ally Fitch.
“Dawn, I’ve been performing the autopsy on the remains you guys recovered in the woods and I found some items in his possession that might help identify him.”
“Okay, I’ll be there soon.” Dawn rushed to her cruiser and sped off, driving straight to the detective bureau. Once she’d parked, she rushed inside and found London sitting at his desk working on reports. She smiled when she saw him. “Here so soon?”
He stood when he heard her voice. “It feels so good to be alive that I didn’t want to waste time sleeping.”
Dawn shuddered as she remembered the moment the jack slipped and the tree came crashing down. Melvin and Rachael had pulled Stella free, but London was lying on his back and unable to move fast enough to get out of harm’s way. She’d seen the look in his eyes as he realized he was about to die, and was astonished at how calm he appeared. “I really thought you were gone.”
He flashed a smile and cocked his head sideways. “And when you grabbed the front of my belt, I thought you were getting frisky. I almost fought you off until I realized you were saving my life.”
Dawn laughed and covered her mouth as a tear slid down her face. She didn’t know what to say, so she just stared at him.
He opened his mouth to speak again, but then stopped. The smile faded and he suddenly became serious. “Dawn, had you not jerked me out from under that tree, I’d be dead right now. I owe you my life.”
She felt embarrassed, so she only said, “I wasn’t about to let you get out of our date that easy.”
CHAPTER 36
Dawn and I found Doctor Ally Fitch leaning over the bones we’d uncovered in Lower Seasville. She was wearing purple scrubs with matching gloves and shoes. She looked up when we walked in and nodded a greeting.
Dawn pointed to her duds. “Way to support Domestic Violence Awareness Month.”
I sighed, thankful Dawn had either forgotten or forgave the doctor for the comment she’d made the last time we were here.
“It’s the least I can do.” She shoved a finger in our direction. “Now, you guys are the true heroes of the cause. You fight for victims every day.”
Dawn smiled, but I detected a hint of sadness in her eyes and I knew she was thinking about her mom. I wanted to say something—do something—to ease her pain, but I didn’t know what or how. So, trying to get her mind on something else, I walked to a stainless steel table at the far end of the autopsy room where Doctor Fitch had placed the tattered clothing from our victim. Beside the clothes were some personal effects. “Did you see this, Dawn?”
She walked over to the table and stood beside me. Lifting her camera from where it hung around her neck, she began taking pictures of the clothes. There was a shirt, jeans, a pair of boots, a leather belt, boxers, and an undershirt. When she was done, I borrowed a pair of latex gloves from Doctor Fitch and examined the leather belt, hoping to find a name punched into the back side of it. We were not so lucky.
I pointed to the articles laid out on the table beside the clothes. “I’m guessing you found these in his pockets?”
“Yeah,” Fitch called from the autopsy table. “Everything on the left was found in the front, left pocket and everything on the right was found in the front, right pocket. There was nothing in his back pockets.”
The items from the left pocket consisted of a brittle pack of cigarettes and a piece of paper wrapped in plastic. I carefully lifted the paper and began unfolding the plastic, but it broke away and crumbled to the table. I continued pulling the plastic away, hoping it had done enough to preserve whatever was inside.
“It has to be important,” Dawn guessed, “considering it’s wrapped in plastic.”
I nodded and kept peeling back the layers. Finally, the paper was exposed and I set it on the table. It was thick and looked to have been folded once. My eyes widened as I eased it open. “It’s a hunting license!”
“It’ll have his name on it!” Dawn said, squeezing the back of my arm. “This is huge.”
Once the document was spread out on the table, I leaned close to it and squinted. I could make out that it was issued from the State of Louisiana, but that was about it. The handwritten portion where the hunter’s name was supposed to be was faded beyond recognition.
“Shit!” I straightened and looked at the items from his right pocket. There was a rusted knife and an old U.S. Army World War II whistle…nothing that could help us identify the remains. I frowned, looked at Doctor Fitch. “Anything over there…fingerprints, surgical scars, dental records?”
“The skin from his hands—as well as most of his body—has decayed, so that rules out scars, marks, and tattoos, and it doesn’t look like he’s ever been to the dentist.”
“If we can’t identify him, this could end up being an unsolved murder.” I glanced at Dawn. “Thoughts?”
“I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but I think we should go back to the old lumberyard and search inside.” She shook her head. “In all honesty, if I never went back to that area again it would be too soon, but there’s a good chance he was killed in the building, so we need to see if there’s any evidence inside.”
“It’s boarded up well,” I said. “I didn’t see any sign of forced entry. The place looks entombed.”
“I agree, but I think we need to check it out. It might’ve been boarded up sometime after the murder.”
“Then let’s do it.” I turned to Doctor Fitch. “Anything we should know before we leave?”
“Just that he was beaten severely in the head with what appears to be a hammer. There are other injuries to his ribs and limbs that are consistent with a baseball bat. Oh, and—” She grimaced in pain and touched the small of her back with her fist as she straightened. “Don’t get old, guys—it sucks.”
Dawn and I both laughed, considering how she was younger than us.
“There was one thing I found strange.” Doctor Fitch strolled toward the table where the victim’s clothes were positioned. We followed and watched as she pointed to the crotch of the pants. “I didn’t have to unbutton or unzip the pants to get it off. I also didn’t have to unbuckle the belt.”
Dawn nodded. “I noticed that when I was photographing him at the grave site.”
“That’s how we found Wilton Michot’s body. Coincidence or connection?” I rubbed my chin, but quickly dismissed it as coincidence. After all, they were killed in entirely different ways. “I guess there are a dozen reasons for having his pants open. Maybe Father Bones here was just taking a piss and someone came up from behind and clobbered him.”
“That’s not a term I would use,” Fitch said, “but it is possible he was urinating when he was attacked.”
She waved us over to the autopsy table and turned the victim’s skull to the side. She had skinned it clean and there was a nice hole located at the center of the back of his head. “This was the hardest blow from the apparent hammer and it could’ve been the first, so it’s highly possible that’s what happened.”
“Let us know if you find out anything else,” Dawn said as we turned to leave.
“Oh, there is on
e other thing.” Doctor Fitch removed her gloves and walked to a corner of the room. She retrieved a red plastic bag and handed it to Dawn. “This is the jumpsuit I removed from the dead prisoner last night.”
Dawn scowled. “I thought Melvin attended the autopsies. Why didn’t he take these?”
Doctor Fitch explained how Melvin had attended Stella’s autopsy, which she performed first, and then announced he wasn’t staying for Cade’s autopsy. He told her she could forward her findings to the detective bureau. “He only stayed long enough to remove the chains and handcuffs for me. He claimed he already knew Cade died by drowning, so there was no point in hanging around.” She spread her hands out to indicate the entire room. “If he already knows how these people died, why am I wasting my time doing this? Well, I’ll tell you why…because he was wrong.”
“Wrong about what?”
“About Cade Baryon.”
That got my attention. “Come again.”
“The prisoner didn’t drown.”
“But I was in the water with him when he died. He practically drowned in my arms.”
“That man did not drown.” Doctor Fitch shook her head. “He died of a massive heart attack. That’s why you couldn’t revive him. Hell, I wouldn’t have been able to revive him if he would’ve dropped dead in the emergency room.”
“Is that so?” Although I’d already made peace with what had happened at the bottom of that black water, I was secretly relieved he hadn’t drowned.
“I found clumps of bacterial growth on the valves of his heart that’s indicative of heroin abuse and there were other signs of severe heart disease.” She frowned. “He didn’t have long to live anyway. He was a walking heart attack just waiting to happen. If someone would’ve screamed ‘boo’ too loud it could’ve killed him.”