by BJ Bourg
“That’s not necessary.” There were tears in the elder man’s eyes. “Just please bring our daughter back home. She’s all we have.”
I nodded and left, heading for my house. I knew better than to hope that Chloe was there, but I felt deflated when I turned the corner and didn’t see her car. I headed for the office next and found it buzzing with activity. Several deputies were milling around eating from plastic bowls and Mayor Boudreaux’s wife was walking around refilling their drinks. The place smelled of chicken and sausage gumbo. Although I hadn’t eaten lunch, I wasn’t even tempted. I had to find Chloe first and foremost—I could eat after that was done.
Susan pushed through the crowd and tugged at my arm. Her eyes were troubled. “What’s going on? Lindsey said something about Chloe being missing.”
My jaw burned as reality settled in. “It’s got to be Simon and his brothers. Somehow, they figured out who she was and…and they got to her. I need to find them, Sue—and fast.”
Susan pursed her lips. “Melvin said they searched everywhere. They checked with everyone living along Bayou Tail and on Lake Berg, but no one’s seen anything. They even rummaged through all the abandoned camps, but there’s no sign of them or the stolen boat.”
I nodded. “I need to go to—”
“Chief, is it true?” Melvin had rushed up and grabbed my arm. “Is Chloe missing?”
“I’m afraid so.”
Amy walked up and handed me a bowl of food. “You need to eat so you can keep your strength up. We’ll find her.”
Knowing she was right, I took the bowl and forced the food down. While I ate, Susan updated me on the results of their investigation into Megyn’s murder. “There were no surprises at the autopsy. She was shot three times, with the fatal wound being the one to the head. Her friends and family can think of no one who would want to hurt her. Like I told you before, her computer and phone turned up nothing.” She paused and frowned. “I think you were right—this is a robbery and our prime suspects are the Parker brothers.”
“Yeah, it’s the only thing that makes sense.” I looked up as Mayor Boudreaux approached and slapped Susan on the back.
“Congratulations, Susan! I heard the bogus charges are going to be dropped tomorrow.”
She smiled. “Thanks, Dexter.”
“I know a good lawyer if you want to sue that bastard for false arrest,” he offered. “That was one hell of an injustice.”
“No, I’m just happy to put it behind me,” she said. “I’ve had enough drama for one year.”
“I understand.” The mayor then turned to me. “I’m going to take the missus back home. She’s tired from cooking all morning and needs to get her rest. I’ll get some rest, too, and come back for the night shift so you kids can get out there and find Chloe.”
I thanked him and watched as he patiently helped his wife gather her purse and a bag. She wanted to take her dishes with her, but he told her he’d bring them home tomorrow. Taking her by the elbow, he then guided her toward the front door of the office.
“That’ll be me and Claire a hundred years from now,” Melvin said, smiling at the old couple. “You know they’ve never even dated anyone else? They were each other’s first love.”
“They’re precious,” Susan said. “I hope to someday find a love like that.”
I only frowned as I watched Dexter open the door for Mrs. Boudreaux. I couldn’t watch them without wondering about Chloe. Where was she? How was she? A sense of panic threatened to seize my breathing as a thought crept into my mind…was Chloe alive?
I hung my head as I focused on pushing the thought from my mind. I knew I couldn’t go there in my mind or—
A distant pop and a nearby splat caused me to jerk my head upward. I gasped out loud when I saw Mrs. Boudreaux fall to her knees, clutching at her stomach. Blood oozed between her fingers and a look of shock fell across her face as she toppled onto the floor, groaning in pain. Another pop sounded and Dexter’s lower jaw was ripped violently from his face. He collapsed in a heap on top of his wife and lay still.
“Dexter!” I drew my pistol and lunged forward as more gunshots erupted in the distance and bullets rained into the police department. I saw Mrs. Boudreaux’s head flinch and she lay still, her eyes open and her mouth sagging. Screaming in anger, I continued toward the door. I had sixteen bullets in my pistol and I had every intention of sending each one of them in the direction of the Parker brothers. I was about to reach the doorway when something struck me violently in the ribs, knocking the wind from my lungs and sending a sharp pain through to my core. My knees buckled and I dropped to the floor, nearly losing my grip on my pistol. As I lay there struggling for air, my eyes locked on Dexter’s lifeless and disfigured face.
CHAPTER 22
Bullets whizzed by overhead and splattered the back wall. I saw two deputies squatting in the corner returning fire through one of the lobby windows. I strained to breathe, but it felt like a sack of oysters was on top of me. Melvin entered my plane of view from the side and sprang toward the front door, kicking it in an attempt to shut it. The door smashed into Dexter’s lifeless body and flung wide open again.
Gripping my pistol, I situated my hands under me and tried to push myself up to help him, but the weight held me down. It was only then that I realized Susan was on top of me. She had tackled me to the ground and once again probably saved me from certain death. She rolled off of me and scrambled toward the right side of the door where Melvin squatted. She flinched once as a bullet splintered the floor just inches from her face, but she made it to Melvin without being injured. The exterior walls were wrapped in brick and provided decent cover from the gunfire, but the open doorway was another matter. I could almost see the bullets spraying through the opening.
Staying clear of that funnel of death, I managed to reach the left side of the doorway and prepared myself to move the bodies. I grimaced as I looked down at Dexter and his wife. They were two people who had done nothing but work hard and help others their entire lives. They didn’t deserve to go out like this. While I was upset and angry that they were gone, I remembered the way Mrs. Boudreaux had acted last year when Dexter disappeared in the swamps, and I knew neither of them would’ve wanted to go on living without the other. As horrible as it was, it felt appropriate that they would expire at the same time.
Seth appeared directly behind me and shoved my boot. “I’m here, Chief, I’ll get the woman.”
I nodded and grabbed Dexter’s arm and dragged him off of his wife and out of the way of the door. Seth grabbed Mrs. Boudreaux and pulled her body beside Dexter’s. In one smooth motion, Melvin lunged forward and delivered a kick to the door that sent it slamming shut. He sighed and started to wipe sweat from his brow, but bullets zipped through the door and splattered against the back wall, sending him ducking for cover.
Susan worked her way around three deputies who were huddled behind Lindsey’s desk and she headed toward my office. Melvin and Seth disappeared into Susan’s office and I heard them fire off some shots from the one window in her office.
I began to follow Susan to my office when I saw Lindsey crouched behind her desk with the deputies. Her hands were covering her head and she was crying out loud. Crawling to her, I grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her toward me. “Get to the shower room,” I yelled into her face. “You’ll be safe. There’re no windows and it’s made of concrete.”
She was shaking uncontrollably and refused to move. Shoving my pistol in its holster, I wrapped my arm around her back and began dragging her in the direction of the hallway. She finally pushed her knees under her body and scurried along until we were halfway down the hall. I let go of her back and told her to keep going.
The gun battle was increasing in intensity and I needed to get into it. I whipped around and rushed toward the patrol section, staying low as I ran. I’d last seen Susan enter my office, so I headed in that direction. I caught sight of the three deputies firing their handguns from behind Lindsey’s d
esk. They would take turns popping up and aiming across the room and through the windows in the lobby, and then drop down behind cover. I grunted, wondering if they could even see anything from that position.
I crashed through my door on hands and knees, trying to stay lower than the windows in my office. Susan turned when she heard me bump against the doorframe. She was crouched near one of the windows, her pistol held firmly in her hands. Most of the bullets from the opposing gunfire impacted the exterior brick walls and disintegrated harmlessly against the hard surface, but an occasional bullet found its way through the window and whizzed by overhead.
“Where’s your AR?” she asked.
I pointed to my cot. “Under there!”
As she went for the AR, I crawled behind my desk and pulled the shotgun from where it was leaning in the corner. I pressed the release switch and pulled the pump back slightly, checking to make sure a round was chambered. One was, so I made my way to the opposite side of the window where Susan was crouched. The window provided a view of the front of the building and I knew I should be able to get a bead on the shooters. Although I hadn’t seen them, I knew it had to be the Parker brothers. Only they possessed the intestinal fortitude to declare war on an entire police department, and they were ruthless enough to kill an elderly woman and her husband for no good reason.
One of the window panes was shattered, but the curtains were still in place and the room was dark enough to hide us from the view of anyone outside. Susan—my AR-15 in her hands—pulled her feet under her butt and prepared to spring upward. She turned to look at me first and her eyes twinkled. “I guess we don’t have to go looking for them,” she said. “It seems like they’ve found us.”
“That was a bad move on their part!” Gritting my teeth, I jumped to my feet and shoved the barrel of the shotgun through the shattered window. I had to squint to try and penetrate the long shadows growing across the street. I searched for hostiles, but saw none. I dropped back down and took a deep breath. “I don’t see anyone.”
I’d caught a glimpse of a pickup truck and some trees across from the office, but I couldn’t be certain they were behind them. I didn’t want to shoot if I couldn’t identify my target. A citizen could’ve gotten caught in the crossfire and sought refuge in the trees. And what if they had Chloe with them? I shuddered at the thought and tried to push it from my mind. That would only distract me and cause me to hesitate at a crucial moment. Chloe’s best chance of survival would be us taking out the Parker brothers as soon as possible.
Susan pointed overhead to let me know she was going up for a look and I nodded. Scooting back from the wall, she took a deep breath and lunged to her feet, the AR extended out in front of her. I stood up at the same time and scanned the area again.
“There,” Susan said, “behind the truck!”
She squeezed off two quick shots and the rear tire blew out. I saw movement behind the truck and a large man bolted from behind it and ran toward another truck parked several feet in front of it. I swung the muzzle of my shotgun in his direction and pulled the trigger, but the buckshot pellets landed harmlessly against the front quarter panel of the first pickup.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the figure again. This time he was moving toward a clump of bushes to my left and he had something long in his hands. Before I could work the pump-action on the twelve-gauge and turn it in his direction, he snapped off a shot and a window pane above my head exploded. Shards of glass peppered the side of my face and I quickly dropped to the ground with Susan, who grabbed my chin and turned my head so she could look me over. “You’re bleeding!”
“It’s nothing—just a little glass.” I took a moment to catch my breath and waited for the barrage of gunfire to cease. When there was a break in the action—possibly for them to reload—I jumped up and fired off a shot in the direction I’d last seen the movement. The figure was gone, but someone returned fire from the right and I dropped back out of sight.
Susan squatted beside me, her chest heaving with each breath. She grabbed her radio and switched to the sheriff’s office channel and called for their dispatcher. After a few seconds, she called again, but there was no answer. She messed with the buttons and tapped the radio on the floor, then shook her head. “The radios are down.”
I pursed my lips. The first thing they did was take out the radio tower behind the office. They’d planned this out and were fully committed to destroying us. “Use your cell phone,” I suggested.
Susan nodded and pulled it from her shirt pocket, using her thumb to punch in a set of numbers. She put the phone to her ear and then pulled it away again. “It’s dead.”
“Your battery?”
“No, the line. It’s dead.”
“What?” My ears were ringing from the shots we’d fired inside the enclosed space and her voice sounded muffled, but I heard what she said. I jerked out my own phone and tried to make a call. She was right. “How is that possible?”
“You know the cell tower north of here?” she asked.
I nodded.
“That tower is the only cellular link between us and the outside world.” She pursed her lips. “Everyone who lived through Hurricane Amanda ten years ago remembers full well how isolated we are down here. It took them weeks to get the tower back up and we were reduced to only using land lines—and most people don’t even have hard line phones anymore.”
Land line phones! I slid across the floor to my desk and snatched the receiver from the cradle and put it to my ear. Nothing. They’d even cut the lines to the building. A slow chill moved up my spine. If they’d thought of that, what else did they have in store for us?
“We’ve got to get out of here and flank them,” Susan said. “We’re pinned down.”
I nodded. “There’re only three of them, so they can’t cover all four sides of the building.”
“I think they’re all in the front.”
“I think you’re right.”
I’d detected three different firearm reports—one sounded like a shotgun, one like an AR-15, and the other like an SKS or AK-47. It sounded like the shots were being fired from somewhere in front of the building, which faced the east. The sally port opened to the east, so we’d have to head straight into the gunfire if we decided to drive out of the building. There were five smaller windows on the back side of the building and we might be able to squeeze out of one and mount an offensive against the Parkers. We certainly needed to get out of the office, because it was a death trap and we were a bunch of little rabbits waiting to be flushed out and killed. If they decided to set fire to the building, all they’d have to do was sit back and wait for us to come running out. They’d then be able to drop us one by one. We had to take the fight to them in a way that would take them by surprise.
I told Susan my plan to escape out the back, and we both hurried toward my office door. Just as we entered the patrol area, several more shots were fired from outside. Most of the bullets landed harmlessly on the exterior wall, but several found their way through the windows and door.
I told Amy to follow Susan and me, and we made our way to Susan’s office. Amy and Susan waited near the door while I entered and spoke with Melvin and Seth, who were taking turns firing out of the window. “I can’t see shit,” Melvin said. “The sun’s going down and that side of the building is in shadows.”
“It’s like they planned it,” Seth said over his shoulder, jumping up and popping off three rounds from his pistol.
I told them Susan and I planned to make a break out the back window. “We’re going to circle around and take these bastards out.”
“The sun will be in your eyes,” Melvin said. “If they’ve got people—”
A sickening splat of a bullet striking flesh and a strained voice hollering in pain somewhere behind me cut Melvin off.
CHAPTER 23
An evil grin split Simon Parker’s face as he slipped back behind the large cypress tree. He’d gotten another one. It wasn’t Clint Wolf, but it
was wearing a uniform, so it would do for now. After changing the magazine on his AK-47, he crouched behind a line of shrubs and darted toward another tree south of his position. Once he reached the safety of the large tree trunk, he leaned the AK-47 against the tree and picked up the AR-15 that rested there. He peered around the tree and studied the police department. Other than a few shots now and then from the front of the building, all was quiet. He’d had a couple of close calls—like when that cop shot out the tire on the truck he’d been hiding behind—but, for the most part, he’d remained a ghost.
Days earlier, Simon had carefully scouted the building and drew up a diagram showing every point of ingress and egress—just like he’d been taught in prison. While most criminals used their time on the inside to write letters, whine about being innocent, and look for Jesus in every corner, he spent his days furthering his education. His enemy was a cop, so the first thing he did when he got locked up was look for an inmate who was an ex-cop. Those were easy to find these days, because it was suddenly vogue for prosecutors to go after cops. He found three in the state pen who were willing to help him. One was doing time for payroll fraud to the tune of a quarter million, the second for involuntary manslaughter, and the third for rape. They were all too eager to teach him what he needed to know to defeat one of their own. Simon spat on the ground. While he needed them, he despised them. Not so much for being cops, but for being traitors. He would never betray one of his brothers no matter what happened, and cops were supposed to be brothers.