by Ryan King
"What did you have in mind?" asked Xavier.
"We'll get to that in a minute," said Charles. "First things first. Are you with us?"
The Haitian looked at Charles steadily for a long time, his eyes dark and expressionless. He thought of his family back in Haiti, possibly worried. Maybe even believing him dead.
A random memory flashed in his head. He had just started his medical training at Haiti’s University Hospital in Port au-Prince. There had been a rare guest lecturer. An elderly man talked about how he had worked at a “re-education center” under President Jean-Claude Duvalier. “Baby Doc,” President Duvalier had been called since assuming power from his father Francois “Papa Doc” Duvalier.
The man spoke about being the doctor at such a camp where, supposedly unbeknownst to him, torture and experimentation were going on all around him. Xavier had sat in the audience and thought how ridiculous the man’s assertions were; he had to have known. Maybe this was simply a story he told himself at the time to stay alive and now that old man reaffirmed it to stay sane. Xavier had walked out of the lecture with distain and righteous anger at the cowardly doctor for not doing something.
Xavier stared out the window at the camp. Finally he said simply, "Yes. I am with you."
Charles nodded, and then looked down again at the bed where his friend had died.
Chapter 34
Port Allen Chief of Police Andrew Bolton looked at his sergeant as if he were not sure he understood the words coming out of his mouth. "Say again?"
Sergeant Tooms shrugged. "Avery Island PD said they had been told to stand down on this. It's now state police jurisdiction."
"For a simple missing person case?" said Bolton. "There has to be something else going on."
"Well, either no one knows what it is, or no one is talking."
Bolton rubbed his chin. "Did Avery PD tell you anything helpful before this got taken from them?"
Tooms smiled. "Actually, yes. Remember how Evan Athers' car had been abandoned and then towed from the marina?"
"Yes," answered Bolton. "Told you to check and see if any boats were reported missing."
"And none were," said Tooms with a smile.
Bolton just stared. "And how the hell is that news at all?"
"Oh, but there was a boat missing," Tooms said. "I couldn't get a name, but evidently one of the marina fishing boats was rented for the weekend and never returned. When Avery questioned all the boat owners, none of them admitted to missing a boat, but they did tip them off to one guy. Used to have a twenty footer registered in Alabama, but now no longer does."
"What happened to it?" asked Bolton.
"Avery PD questioned him, and he got real squirrely," said Tooms. "Claims to have sold the boat, but couldn't remember the name of the individual or have any records of the sale."
"Good," said Bolton. "That's who the state police should start with. Should be able to follow that lead back to wherever Mr. Athers is. Speaking of which, we need to reach out to them. Regardless of what they tell Avery, we still have our own missing person's case."
"Chief," came Gina's voice from the next room. "Call on line two."
"Take a message," Bolton yelled back.
"I think you're going to want to take this," she said.
Bolton sighed and picked up the phone. "This is Chief Bolton."
"Yes," responded a polished and overly cheerful voice, "Chief of Police Bolton, how very nice to talk to you. My name is Adrian Fisk."
"The state attorney general?" asked Bolton, standing up straighter.
"Why, yes," Fisk answered. "So very nice of you to recognize my name. I'm afraid we have never had the pleasure of meeting in person."
"Uh, no, sir," answered Bolton, not sure how else to answer.
"We'll have to remedy that sometime in the future," said Fisk, "but I can tell you that the governor is very pleased with Port Allen's low crime rate and school patrol program you have instituted. Very progressive and in line with his agenda. Loyalty goes a long way with the governor."
"Uh, yes, sir," answered Bolton, feeling like he couldn't get his balance. "Thank you, sir."
"A man like you could go far with the right friends," said Fisk. "Keep up the good work and it will pay off, I can promise you that."
"I appreciate that, sir. What can I do for you?"
"Oh, my," Fisk chuckled. "I almost forgot why I called. Going on and on, thank you for reminding me. I understand you are working a missing person's case?"
"That's true," said Bolton. "A Mr. Evan Athers, CPA here in Port Allen."
"Very good," answered Fisk cheerfully. "I'm going to need you to turn over everything you've got on the case to the state police and cease all investigative activity."
"Sir? I'm not sure I understand."
"Really?" said Fisk with a smile that could be heard through the phone. "I'm declaring state jurisdiction on this case. I appreciate the efforts you and your department have made, and I'll put in a good word for you with the governor, but there’s nothing more for you to worry about from this point forward."
"But for a missing person?" repeated Bolton. "Has this turned into a murder case or something?"
Fisk's voice lost its smile. "Now, Chief Bolton, you don't know that, and we don't want anyone to go spreading rumors. As a matter of fact, I'm going to have to insist you don't speak to anyone further on this case except for members of the state police and my office. Especially do not answer any requests from the media."
"What exactly did Mr. Athers get mixed up in?" asked Bolton.
"Again, no need for you to concern yourself. State police now has jurisdiction; they'll be in touch soon. The governor sincerely appreciates your cooperation. Can we count on your support?"
Bolton wasn't sure what to say. He had effectively been given an order and then asked if he would support it. "Certainly, sir," he finally answered.
"Splendid," said Fisk the smile back. "I'll pass that along to the governor's office. Again, keep up the good work. We'll be watching you closely. Don't let us down."
"Uh, we won't, sir."
"Excellent, you have a great day now," Fisk said and hung up the phone.
Bolton pulled the phone from his ear and stared at it for several seconds before placing it slowly in the cradle.
"That was an awful lot of sirs," said Tooms.
"Yes," answered Bolton. "We've been ordered to relinquish jurisdiction of the Athers' case to the state police."
"Why?"
"I'm not rightly sure," said Bolton thoughtfully. "But any time you get an order from the state attorney general, you do what you're told."
"That was Adrian Fisk on the line?" asked Tooms, looking impressed.
Bolton nodded.
Tooms whistled appreciatively. "Wow. Well what do we do now?"
The chief thought for a moment and then sighed. "We do what we're told. The state police will be in touch soon. Turn everything over to them and then forget about it."
"Seems odd," said Tooms.
"That it does," admitted Bolton. "First Avery Island PD gets jurisdiction taken and then we do...but that doesn't change anything. Let's turn it over."
Tooms nodded slowly and then walked out of the room.
Something isn't right about this, thought Chief Bolton, flipping through the case file one last time.
"Where did you say that missing boat was registered?" yelled Bolton.
"Alabama," answered Tooms from the adjacent room. "Why?"
"No reason," answered Bolton. "Do me a favor and make me a copy of everything...unofficially."
Tooms paused before answering. "No problem, boss."
Bolton was impressed the man didn't ask any further questions. He was glad. Bolton wasn't sure exactly what he had in mind, only that something wasn't right. He was running on intuition.
Alabama, he thought. A boat registered in Alabama missing in Louisiana technically makes this a federal issue. A weak one...but still...
Bolton began to smile.
/> Chapter 35
Rena fled into the forest wanting to be away from her father, yet also in a way hoping he chased after her. Simultaneously, she craved his love and rejected what he had done...what he had allowed her to do. She slowed to a walk when she realized he wasn't following her. That she was alone.
The forest had always been a refuge to her. Filled with life and beauty, the island was home as surely and true as the tides. She walked slowly and, after a moment, closed her eyes. Rena didn't need her sight to see where she was going; she could sense the trees and plants and animals around her. Moving slowly, she let the tension and heartache flow out of her.
Opening her eyes, she hadn't fully realized she had stopped. The birds sang their evening songs from the trees around her. She knew she should head back home soon. As angry as she was at her father, she didn't want him to worry about her.
Rena closed her eyes once more and tried to soak in as much peace as she could before going back. Very faintly, she heard an odd sound in the distance. Opening her eyes, she looked around, but could not see the source of the noise. Rena forced herself to relax and closed her eyes again. There it was. A very soft high-pitched hitching noise, so like an engine that wasn't running properly. How odd, yet familiar.
Her brain worked to place the sound into context and all manner of potential origins popped into her mind before one dominated the rest. Once it was identified, it was difficult to imagine how she could have failed to identify the source or think it could be something else.
It was crying. Softly. In the distance, but not far.
Intrigued, Rena carefully picked her way through the underbrush towards the sound. On occasion, she had to stop and listen again to make sure she was going in the right direction.
She could now see a faint light in the distance that was certainly a small fire. There was something else as well. A voice.
"We should have done something." A pause. "I don't know, something." Another pause. "Stop calling me that!" The voice sounded near tears again.
Rena moved closer and found a slight trail. She followed the trail in towards the fire and the voice. Carefully and slowly, Rena crept forward.
A small snap at her feet caused her to look down. She saw that she had snagged on taunt fishing line. Something made her look up, and she saw a heavy log attached to a vine swinging down from the tree branches headed her way.
The path was narrow, and the swinging log swung along its axis. The right side was blocked by thick vegetation, but the left was open. Just as the swinging log was almost upon her, Rena threw herself onto the flat ground to her left...and continued to fall.
She dropped about six feet before coming to an abrupt stop on freshly dug earth, knocking the wind out of her. Rena turned on her back and looked upwards out of what appeared to be the bottom of a freshly dug grave.
Might be mine, she thought. Caught neatly in a tiger pit.
The silhouette of a dark man appeared in the sky above her. He was naked from the waist up and carried a three-foot branch with a wickedly curved knife attached to one end.
"You," the voice said in a surprised whisper.
Rena struggled to get her breath and bearings. The outline above her seemed vaguely familiar.
The man smiled. "What should I do with her?" He tilted his head to one side before shaking it furiously. "No! That's bad. Moses gets in bad trouble for hurting other people."
"Moses," Rena managed to gasp out. "Let me out of here."
He focused back on her. "You helped the bad men. Moses trusted you, and you gave him over to the bad men."
"I know," said Rena. "That was wrong. I'm sorry."
"They hurt me. Try to kill me. They are very bad. They put the bodies in the water for the crabs to eat on."
Rena wasn't sure what to make of this last statement. "Listen. You need to let me out of here."
He shook his head. "You'll tell the bad men about me. They'll kill me for sure this time. Can't let them catch Moses."
"I won't tell anyone," insisted Rena. "It was a mistake before, and I see that now. I'm very sorry."
Moses seemed uncertain and tilted his head as if listening to other voices.
"You can't keep me down here forever," said Rena.
"Bury her?" asked Moses aghast. "Bury her alive?"
A chill went through her. "Who are you talking to?"
"My friends," Moses answered without looking her way. "We're talking about what we should do. Stop interrupting, it's not polite."
Oh shit, she thought. This was one of the reasons they had turned Moses over to the Chiron folks. He was certainly crazy and needed help, yet she was also convinced that those people had no interest in helping anyone.
"You need to get off the island," she told him. "There are only so many places you can hide. Eventually, they'll find you."
He looked at her and then tilted his head again. "How? They want to know."
"A boat," she answered. "We'll need to find you a boat somewhere. I would give you Poppa's, but he keeps it locked up."
"Same with the bad men at the dock nearby," he answered.
She looked at him quizzically. "What dock?"
"The one close to where they sink the bodies," he explained. "They lock the boat up there."
"Moses, if you take me to this boat, we might be able to get it free and then you can go to the shore. Get off the island."
He thought for a very long time. "You promise not to tell the bad men about me?"
"I promise," she said.
He walked away and didn't return for a very long time. Rena's fear mounted. When he did come back, it was with a long vine. Moses handed it down to her, and when she had a firm grip, he hauled her up with a surprising display of strength.
Rena looked at the lean and wild figure before her. He still held the makeshift spear in his hand and clearly wasn't entirely sane.
"Why don't you get whatever you need together and let's go to the boat?"
He looked around and then started throwing a few things into a green duffle bag. "I'm ready. Follow me."
The last rays of the sun were on the water when they made it to the dock.
"I recognize this place now," said Rena. "I was here years before, but there wasn't a boat then."
"They use it to sink the bodies in the water," he said again, pointing out towards the dark smooth surface.
Rena peered at him closely. "Moses, did you actually see them put dead bodies in the water?"
Moses nodded. "The blonde lady from the stream. She's out there now getting eaten by fish and crabs." He shuddered.
She thought about her life on the island. How they were isolated and protected from the world. Her and her father living a peaceful, happy life. Yet there was something very wrong here, something possibly evil that no one dared talk about. She hesitated only a moment before coming to a decision.
"Moses, once you get to shore, you need to go find the police. Tell them everything you've seen. Everything that's happened."
Moses shook his head. "Police are mean to Moses. Make him move from the good spots."
"This is important," stressed Rena. "The police can help. Not all police are mean."
"Like Deborah?" he asked hopefully.
"Sure," said Rena, not certain who Deborah was. "Find the police and tell them what happened."
Moses looked at her skeptically, and Rena realized it was likely the best she could hope for.
They used an old pipe to pry the chain off the dock. Popping the chain loose from the rotting wood of the dock was much easier than trying to bust the lock off. Rena helped Moses climb into the boat and handed him his gear.
"Do you know where you're going?" she asked.
Moses pointed confidently south out into the open gulf.
"No," she said, shaking her head. "The other way."
He pointed north with less certainty.
"Yes," she nodded.
"Are you sure?" he asked.
"Very certain. Now
you want to use the last bits of sunlight. If it gets too dark to see, either head towards the lights of shore or just turn off the engine and drift. You won't go too far before morning and then you can head north again."
"The engine," he said uncertainly, looking at it for the first time.
"You ever driven a boat before?" she asked.
Moses smiled and shook his head.
Rena sighed and climbed down into the boat. She gave him a quick class on how the outboard engine worked along with the yoke and throttle. "The trick is to take everything slow," she said.
"Got it," he answered. "Take everything slow."
Rena climbed back onto the dock and tossed the chain into the boat before pushing it out into the open water. She then had a thought.
"Here," Rena said, pulling a folded piece of paper out of her back pocket. She threw it across the short stretch of water between them and into the boat. "Take this and give it to the police. Tell them this is someone the bad men have."
"I don't like the police," he said, as if Rena had forgotten this all-important fact.
"You can do this," she stressed. "Please, I'm counting on you."
Moses nodded, bent down to pick up the paper, and put it in the front pocket of his pants.
"Go ahead and start the engine. Remember what I taught you."
Moses did it perfectly on the first try and then carefully got the boat headed out into the water. Just as he was nearly out of sight, he lifted a hand in farewell.
Rena waved back as the last rays of the sun fled from the sky.
Chapter 36
Heather woke up slowly as if from a bad hangover. She looked around at the clean and stark white surfaces. A regular beeping sound seemed to coincide with her slow and relaxed heart rate. Heather realized that she felt terrible.
She started to touch her face, but the movement was stopped by a restraint. Opening her eyes fully, she saw she was on a hospital bed with an IV in both arms. Her wrists and ankles were restrained to the metal railing of the bed.
"Hello?" she called out weakly and then with more force. "Is anyone one there?"
There was a slight rustling from an adjacent room before a short, squat, middle-aged woman with silvery hair appeared with a smile.