by Mary Abshire
He’s been a busy man, imaginary Emily said.
Andrew set the pen down. “I haven’t pulled the records on his house, but if I had to guess, he spent almost five years in Baton Rouge before he moved to Lafayette.”
Through his research, Andrew found Deon had joined the police force over thirteen years ago. Deon had started his career with the local Baton Rouge police unit. The complaints against Deon showed up a year and a half after he’d taken his oath to serve and protect. Although Andrew couldn’t review the court documents, he was able to get the names and case numbers. He didn’t feel up to driving so far away to review the hard copy files, but it was an option.
I wonder if he’s had other charges brought against him in other parts of the state.
“It’s possible. I would need to look at a map and search by his name and the city.”
The research would take more time. He’d already spent a forty-five minutes online. His weary eyes might not be able to handle another hour or so.
Stick with what you have for now.
Agreeing, Andrew clicked on the first link to view the record. Unlike the database for Baton Rouge, this one didn’t ask for a fee to view the record. The complaint had been filed a little over a year from the last case in Baton Rouge. A Tonya Deveroux alleged Deon had forced her to perform a sexual act. Two months after the initial filing, she withdrew the charge. A copy of the handwritten notes from the file indicated she had a criminal case with pending charges of drug possession.
It doesn’t say why she withdrew her complaint.
“We could speculate her reason had been related to the drug charge.”
Was she really into drugs, or did someone plant them?
“I’d have to ask her to find out the answer.”
Andrew returned to the previous screen. He selected the next case listed. The claimant’s name was Shantel Lejoun. Andrew skimmed through the court documents. She’d alleged Deon forced her into having sex or she would’ve been charged with speeding, endangering a child since her two-year-old had been in the back seat, harassment against an officer, and resisting arrest. She had admitted to speeding, but had claimed the rest of the allegations were bogus. Her attorney mentioned Deon had a prior complaint against him in the system. Subsequent documents revealed Deon had stopped her a month later. She had a witness with her at the time and had immediately contacted her lawyer. The witness had stated Deon had threatened Shantel if she didn’t withdraw her complaint. Shantel’s lawyer had filed a motion to suspend and had asked for a week of docked pay. The judge had ruled in favor of the claimant since she had a witness and had suspended Deon for one day without wages.
She must be the one the lady at the store had talked about.
Andrew jotted her name on the pad of paper before he started reviewing the next record. Over a year later, Dawn Thibeau claimed Deon had forced her into sex or he would arrest her. She’d been driving on a suspended license. Similar to the first case, she’d failed to appear at the court hearing. Notes scribbled in the file indicated she was incarcerated for drug-related charges.
I’m seeing similarities.
“Me too.”
Andrew continued to the next case. He reviewed the orders and notes. Heather Dubois had been pulled over for failing to stop at a light and speeding in a school zone. Her license had expired and she hadn’t realized it. Deon had threatened to tow her car, fine her, and have her flagged for suspension if she didn’t have sex with him. She withdrew her charges a month later. No reason noted.
The three other records Andrew reviewed had similar details. The women had been pulled over and given options to have sex or perform a sexual act to avoid jail, high fines, or minor citations. Two of the claimants had failed to show for court, so the cases were dismissed. One had withdrawn her case and had stated she lied because she’d wanted to make her boyfriend jealous.
Either those women are stupid or there really is a problem with Deon. I’d bet on the latter.
Andrew opened a new browsing window on the screen. In the search box he typed Shantel Lejoun in Lake Charles. Links appeared for a home address, Facebook, and Instagram accounts.
You should pay her a visit.
“I might do that.”
He wrote the address next to her name on the notepad. When he finished, he searched for Heather Dubois. His eyes widened when he saw an obituary. But a headline about a murder victim identified as Heather Dubois caught his attention even more. He selected the hyperlink to the article.
The report revealed Heather’s body had been found in a ditch near Milton. She had been bound and stabbed in her torso and lower abdomen. Investigators believed her death matched others in the surrounding area. They’d labeled her as the eighth victim.
Check the others.
Imaginary Emily’s words came as he entered another woman’s name in the search box. Her address and social account information showed up, so he noted it on the pad. When he typed a different name from his list, he couldn’t believe the results. Andrew reviewed a news article stating she too had been found murdered.
He’s the serial killer.
“It could be coincidence. Maybe he knows the killer and since he’s a cop, he’s hiding evidence.”
Are you serious? He’s a demon. He’s after women. Look at how many allegations were made against him. All of them from women.
“If they were concerned about him because of all the complaints, shouldn’t they have investigated him by now?”
All of them except one had been dismissed. They don’t mean shit since he wasn’t convicted of anything.
Sighing, Andrew searched four more names, including one from Baton Rouge. The last one he entered had an obituary. She had been identified as victim number six.
The percentage of deaths out of the total complaints is low, but the fact remains there is a link. What does your gut tell you?
Leaning back in the chair, he said, “Deon is a demon. I’ve seen the way he looks at women and I already spoke to one lady who had said she gave him a blowjob to avoid jail. My instinct tells me he could be the serial killer. He would know how to get away with murder since he’s a cop. But I’d still like to speak to one of these ladies to confirm my suspicion.”
I thought you weren’t concerned with his crimes. I thought you wanted to focus on killing him.
“You would research to find a way to get close to him. I’m following what you would do.”
Why?
“It’s what you would do.”
He had no better answer. He wanted to believe the demon’s crimes didn’t matter, but they did. The crimes revealed plenty about the demon, such as his desires, his habits, his evil nature, who he looked for, and so much more. Through the research Emily had done the previous four times, they were able to find a way to get close to the demon. Emily was smart. He learned a great deal from her.
What do you plan to do now?
“Tomorrow, I’m going to visit one of the women, maybe two. If I can confirm with one what I read about the case and how perverted Deon is, then I will spend more time following him.”
Either way you have to stalk him.
“I know, but I’m hoping she has information about him that can help me figure out how to get near him. If my gut is right and he is the serial killer, then I will need to take extra precautions.”
You’re starting to think like me.
“Maybe because you are in my head?”
We made a great team. A shame you left me.
Andrew closed the laptop. He’d read enough and stared at the screen so much his vision started to blur. Although his day hadn’t turned out as he had planned, he’d learned valuable information about the demon. Now, Andrew needed to find a way to put his knowledge to use. If Emily were with him, he could guess what type of plan she’d conjure. She’d spring the idea of finding a way for Deon to pull her over, which would put her in danger.
His heart filled with sadness again. So many times he questioned hi
s decision to leave her and had thought he’d made a bad decision. But as he considered the risks involved with trying to destroy demons, he started to believe he had made the right choice to ensure her safety.
Chapter Eight
Emily strode toward the entrance of the bank with her purse and one of her duffle bags. Although she now had sunglasses to shield her eyes from the sun, the light still bothered her. She’d obtained a headache from the bright rays during her two-hour drive from San Diego to the storage facility in Borrego Springs where Matt had stored her and Andrew’s belongings. After she’d located her purse with her shades, she’d quickly slid them on. It had taken her close to a half hour to load all the stuff into the Jeep since she couldn’t move too fast. Lifting and twisting had made her back sore, but she resisted taking a painkiller. She still had a long drive ahead of her to make it to Louisiana, and she didn’t want any pills to slow her down.
Inside the bank, she headed for the office with a window. A thin older woman with salt-and-pepper curly hair sat behind a desk. She’d helped Emily rent the safe deposit box a few weeks ago. If Emily remembered correctly, her name was Brenda Fulton.
Emily stopped in front of the window. After she’d gathered the Brenda’s attention, Emily stepped around to the open door.
“Can I help you?” Brenda asked as she rose from her seat.
“Yes, I need to stop my safe deposit box rental and withdraw my contents.”
“Do you have the key and your ID with you?”
“Yes I do.”
“Have a seat in my office.” Brenda gestured for Emily to enter.
Emily set her bag in the chair. After she placed her purse on the desk, she dug inside for the key. Since it hadn’t been on any ring, she suspected the small piece of metal had fallen to the bottom. Finding it, she handed the key to Brenda.
“And your name?” Brenda asked as she sat behind her desk and faced the computer.
“Carrie Reynolds.” Emily removed Carrie’s license from her billfold and then handed the ID to her. Once she finished gathering the items from the bank, she planned to discard the documents with the name Carrie Reynolds and start using her new credentials for Penny Reed.
Brenda checked Emily’s license. As if she were satisfied, she began typing on her keyboard. While she stared at her monitor, Emily remained standing since she doubted she would be in the office long.
“All right. Everything looks good. I need you to sign off on a few forms, but it can wait until you’re ready to leave.” Brenda withdrew a set of keys from a drawer in her desk. She left her seat and handed Emily’s license back. “Follow me.”
Brenda led her into the vault. Passing a large steel door on the left, they rounded a corner and then reached a barred door. After Brenda unlocked it, she led Emily into the room where the safe deposit boxes lined the walls five feet up from floor. A table and two chairs sat in the middle of the room. Locating the box for Emily, Brenda slid the key in and opened the door. “Would you like privacy?”
“Yes please.” Emily rested her bag and purse on the table.
“Be sure to shut the door on your way out. Also, I need you to stop by my desk to sign a few forms for me and turn in the key.”
“I’ll do that. Thanks.”
As Brenda walked out of the room, Emily removed the heavy box from the storage unit. Her back tensed as she carried the container to the desk. She set it by her bag and then lifted the lid. A folded piece of paper with the letters E and M were on the outside. Emily recognized Andrew’s writing immediately.
She took the paper and tossed it into her purse. While her heart accelerated with excitement and curiosity flooded her, she didn’t dare look at the note yet. Odds were high she would cry and she didn’t want anyone in the bank to notice.
Eager to read the note, she hurried to stuff the cash into her bag. She noticed a few stacks were gone, but not much. She suspected Andrew had taken them to help him get to Louisiana. Some of the funds were his anyway. He hadn’t taken half of what he’d put into the container.
Once she’d packed all the money into the bag, she closed the lid on the box. She returned it to the storage unit, then locked the door. Key in hand, she grabbed her belongings on her way out.
“Done already?” Brenda asked as Emily entered her office.
She set the heavy bag in the chair. “Yeah, I’ve got everything.”
Brenda slid papers on the desk toward her. “These need your signature. I just need your key and then you’re free to go. Your husband already gave his key when he came by several days ago.”
Emily set the key on the desk. She scribbled Carrie’s name on the documents without reading them. None of it mattered anyway.
“Thank you for doing business with us,” Brenda said. “Would you like copies?”
“No, but thank you.” Emily lifted her purse and bag.
“Good luck,” she said as Emily walked away.
Emily strode from the bank and returned to her car. She set the bag on the passenger seat before she walked around to the driver’s side. Once she settled behind the wheel, she dug the note from her purse. Her fingers trembled as she hurried to unfold the tablet-sized paper. A tsunami wave of sadness filled her when she saw his handwriting.
Emily,
I love you so much. I will miss hearing your sweet voice and seeing your beautiful smile. I will miss your laughter, your love, kissing and touching you, and so much more. There is nothing I won’t miss because I love everything about you. Walking away from you was the most difficult thing I have ever done, but I believe leaving was the right thing to do. I want you to be safe and happy, live your life to the fullest. One day we will meet again. I will get you into heaven, I promise you this. I hope you can forgive me. Please forgive me. If you hate me, I will understand. But I will always love you. Know that I am deeply sorry. You are the only woman for me. You are my one true love. I love you, Em, always and forever.
Please don’t look for me.
Tears streamed down her face while she struggled to breathe. He left no doubt about how much he loved her. No man had ever treated her with such tenderness and affection. She believed his words and wondered how much heartache he was suffering. It had to be overwhelming since she struggled with it too. Damn him for causing such grief.
He’d thought he’d done the right thing, but he’d been mistaken. They were meant to be together. Call it fate, she didn’t care, but she had to be with him and it seemed clear he should be with her. They needed each other to learn, to work through their mistakes, to understand the true meaning of love. He also needed her to get the demons while she needed him to see there was a heaven above and a hell beneath it.
She stuffed the note back into her purse. She had a happy life with him and she intended to get it back. She refused to let any man tell her what to do or make any decision for her. Damn Andrew for taking all the joy and happiness they had.
Resolve filled her as she wiped her cheeks. He’d been wrong to leave her and she planned to prove it to him.
Chapter Nine
Andrew held a piece of paper between his fingers while he spun the wheel, turning the car down a side street with homes on both sides of the road. The houses sat above the ground with large trees shading them. Most yards were overgrown with weeds. Cars parked in driveways and on the side of the road were either rusting, dented, or had broken lights. Laundry hung from a clothesline outside one home. Another had mounds of junk piled up under the carport. Andrew slowed the vehicle as he checked out the address he’d written down. The numbers showed 5149. A glance at the digits on the nearest mailbox indicated he needed to keep driving. He passed several more properties before he finally reached his destination.
A huge tree in the front shaded the small white house. Children’s toys had been left in the yard. A minivan and a sedan sat idle on the gravel driveway leading to the one-car garage. Curtains inside fluttered near open windows. On such a hot day, Andrew wondered why the owner wasn’t runnin
g the air inside. Then he recalled he hadn’t seen any units on the sides of the homes he’d driven by.
Andrew left his car parked on the side of the road and followed the driveway to a concrete path leading to the entrance in the center of the house. Passing by small windows, he smelled food cooking and heard the cry of a baby. When he reached the main door, he climbed two steps and then knocked.
The door opened and a thin African American woman faced him. She had short braided hair and wore white shorts and a tank top. “Yes?”
“I’m looking for Shantel Lejoun.”
“Who are you?”
“My name is Spencer. I’m a reporter from Chicago and I’m researching dirty cops within the state. Shantel’s name showed up on a case against someone I’m researching. I’d like to talk to her if she’s available.”
She crossed her arms. “Is this about that asshole Deon?” She had a strong Cajun accent like the woman he’d spoken to in the grocery store.
“Yes. Are you Shantel?”
She turned her head to the side and said, “I’m going outside for a few minutes. Keep an eye on Tanisha.”
Andrew backed down the steps. Although she hadn’t confirmed she was Shantel, he believed her to be since she seemed willing to talk to him. He paused on the sidewalk, a few feet away from her.
She closed the door behind her on the way out. “You said you’re a reporter?”
“Yes, and I can keep your name out of the article I’m writing. I’m interested in getting facts. I can always change names and small details.”
She sat on the top step. “I knew that man was trouble. He always had been. We went to school together before he moved to Baton Rouge.”