But Not Forsaken: A Clint Wolf Novel (Clint Wolf Mystery Series Book 3)

by BJ Bourg

  One of the divers stood and tossed his garbage in a plastic bag we’d tied to the tailgate of Melvin’s truck. “We’ll get back in and search the bottom just in case they drowned.”

  Melvin nodded and made his way to where his boat was tied to a tree. As he and the divers boarded the vessel and cruised toward the middle of the bayou, Susan and I stood on the bank and watched.

  Susan pointed across the bayou in the direction of Cig’s. “Your house is a mile away. You don’t think they know that, do you?”

  I scrunched my face. “Who?”

  “The Parker brothers.” She searched my eyes. “If they survived the crash, they might be heading that way to ambush you.”

  “That would make my day.” I turned away and started walking toward Seth’s truck, calling over my shoulder, “I’ll be back.”

  “Where’re you going?”

  “Visit with Chloe’s parents.”

  CHAPTER 30

  Mrs. Rushing burst through the front door of her house before I had a chance to get out of the truck. “Did you find her?” she asked, her face red and streaked with tears. “Is she okay?”

  I frowned and simply shook my head. Chloe’s dad walked outside and shoved his hands deep in his pockets. “Clint, what’s happened to our baby girl?”

  “I don’t know.” I crossed my arms and studied both of them. They were in genuine pain, so they obviously knew nothing. I tried to be objective. “Has Chloe ever done anything like this before?”

  “What do you mean?” Mrs. Rushing asked.

  “Has she ever taken off without telling anyone anything?”

  “You mean run away?” Mr. Rushing asked. He looked at his wife and then stared down at the ground. When he didn’t say anything, I prompted him for more.

  “What is it?” I asked. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  Mrs. Rushing stood there wringing her hands as she explained how Chloe had run away when she was in high school. “It was all over a stupid fight. She wanted to go to a concert with some friends, but we told her she couldn’t go. She became really angry and—”

  “It was in the city,” Mr. Rushing interjected. “Her friend had just gotten her license and we didn’t trust her driving, so we told her she couldn’t go. If was for her own safety.”

  “Did she go anyway?” I asked.

  Mr. Rushing shook his head. “She went into her room and slammed the door. An hour later we called her in for supper and she didn’t answer. When we checked her room we found her window unlocked. The screen was on the ground outside the window and she was gone.”

  “We called everyone she knew,” Mrs. Rushing said, “but no one had seen her or heard from her. Andy drove to the city and tried to get into the concert hall to search for her, but they wouldn’t let him in without a ticket.”

  Mr. Rushing nodded. “I found a payphone and got in touch with her friends’ parents. Two of the dads met me out there and we found the car in the parking lot and waited. When the concert was over the girls came out to the car, but Chloe wasn’t with them.”

  They explained how they had contacted the sheriff’s office and made a report. “The detective on the case got her friends to talk and they finally told him where she was hiding.” Mr. Rushing shook his head.

  I raised an eyebrow. “Where was she?”

  Mrs. Rushing lowered her head. “She was with some older boy she’d met at the mall. His parents didn’t even know she was there.”

  “Yeah, he snuck her in through his bedroom window.” Mr. Rushing took a deep breath and exhaled. “To say I was pissed is putting it mildly. When I questioned her, she said she wanted to get us back for not letting her go to the concert—she wanted to hurt us like we had hurt her.”

  I pulled at my dirty T-shirt and pondered everything I’d just learned. I’d done stupid things in my youth, as had everyone, but what if Chloe still had that wild streak in her? What if she was mad at me for going to Tennessee and wanted to make me feel what she felt? She did sound upset over the phone when I first told her I was making the trip. “If she were to do that sort of thing again,” I began, “where might she run off to?”

  The Rushings traded looks and then shook their heads in unison. “I have no idea,” Mrs. Rushing admitted. “Ever since she moved out we’ve pretty much stayed out of her business.”

  I began searching the recesses of my brain, trying to remember if she had ever mentioned a name of a friend, but couldn’t think of any. She had only talked about her work companions. Thinking they might know more about Chloe, I checked on Achilles and then hurried to the truck to go interview her work associates. I heard my name over the sheriff’s radio when I got inside. It was Susan and she seemed impatient.

  “Go ahead,” I responded.

  “They found another vehicle in the bayou,” she said. “You need to get here quick!”

  CHAPTER 31

  I raced down Bayou Tail Lane and jumped from the truck in time to watch the wrecker driver work the levers on the winch. As the cable wound around the spool, it made an occasional popping sound and jerked into place, spraying water along its length.

  Brennan Boudreaux and some of his friends were standing on the street. Brennan nodded in my direction. “Anything you need, Chief.”

  I nodded my thanks and hurried to where Susan and Melvin stood near the wrecker. “What’s going on?”

  Susan shot a thumb toward the divers, who were stripping their gear off in the shade under the bridge. “They said they were searching the bottom for bodies and came upon another car, but they think this one was heading south when it went into the water.”

  I glanced across the bayou. A team of reporters were crowding along the northern bank, their cameras aimed in our direction. A dark feeling suddenly fell over me. “Oh, shit! Do you think we caused this accident when we opened the bridge? The lights on the northern gates are burnt.”

  “No way!” Melvin shook his head from side to side. “Amy and I were up there and could see for miles. The only car that went off the bridge was the truck.”

  I relaxed a little, but suddenly remembered driving home Wednesday night and what Amy had said over the radio yesterday. “Melvin, did y’all really find the door to the bridge cabin kicked open?”

  Melvin nodded. There was a blank look on his face. “We haven’t had a bridge tender in years. It was probably some kids being stupid, or some teenagers finding a place to hook up.”

  “The bridge was up Wednesday night when I came home from Tennessee,” I explained. “Someone dumped this vehicle over the edge.”

  “How do you know that?” Melvin wanted to know.

  “The gates on the north side aren’t broken,” I explained. “That means someone drove up to the edge of the deck first, raised the lift span—which lowers the gates—and then pushed the vehicle over the edge.” I pursed my lips and shook my head, remembering the ripples in the water that night. “And I showed up right after they did it.”

  “But why would someone push a car over the edge?” Susan asked. “What would be the point of that?”

  I sighed. I had no idea why, but I couldn’t think of another logical reason for a car to be at the bottom of Bayou Tail—and especially in that area. The only way to get a car down there would be by going over one of the decks.

  One of the divers walked up to where we stood. His wet suit sloshed as he walked. “I felt around on the inside, but I didn’t feel any bodies,” he said.

  “We’ll know soon enough.” I pointed to the edge of the bank, where the water was bubbling up and the front bumper of a red car emerged from the disturbed water. My knees suddenly went weak and I stumbled forward.

  “Clint, what are you doing?” Susan asked, grabbing my shoulder.

  “That’s Chloe’s car!” I brushed her off and rushed down the grassy embankment and into the bayou. Water immediately saturated my shoes, but I didn’t care. The wrecker operator hollered a warning, but I continued onward, grabbing onto the side of the muddy car to s
teady myself. My heart raced in my chest and a fog of confusion filled my brain. How could this be? She couldn’t be inside the car—I’d received text messages from her after Wednesday night. And who had been in the bridge cabin? Could she have done this? Was she trying to disappear?

  My foot slipped on a slimy rock and I fell backward, splashing into the bayou. Dirty water shot up my nose and into my mouth. I twisted around and scrambled to my feet, choking on the muddy soup. I plunged forward, sinking to my chest as I reached for the open window frame. I pulled myself partially through the opening and stared wildly about, searching every inch of the car with my eyes. I relaxed and backed out of the window when I realized it was empty.

  Susan appeared beside me and put an arm around my back. “Come on, Clint, we have to back away so the operator can get her car out of the bayou.”

  I nodded and allowed her to lead me back to the bank, where I plopped to a seated position in the wet mud. “It’s empty,” I said. “She’s not inside.”

  “That’s a relief.” Susan sat beside me and pushed her wet hair back. “If she’s not inside, where is she?”

  I stood and extended my hand. Susan took it and I braced myself as she pulled herself to her feet. While the wrecker finished pulling Chloe’s car from the bayou, I turned to the divers. “Are y’all sure no one’s down there?”

  They shook their heads in unison, and one said, “There’s no way we can be sure. We combed the bottom as best we could and didn’t find anything, but there’s a possibility the current could’ve moved the bodies downstream.”

  Melvin walked to Chloe’s car and opened the driver’s door. He knelt beside it for a moment and then hollered for me to walk over. Susan and I hurried to the car and I looked where he pointed. The driver’s seat had been pushed completely forward and the car jack was propped between the seat and the accelerator. It had been fully extended and was lodged firmly in place, pinning the accelerator to the floor.

  I rubbed my chin. “So, she wasn’t inside when the car went off the bridge.”

  A puzzled expression fell over Susan’s face. “Do you think Chloe dumped her own car in the bayou?”

  That thought was already haunting me. What if she did do this? If so, she had stood in the bridge cabin watching me that night. I shivered, more from the thought than the cool breeze blowing over my wet body. After what her parents told me, I had to wonder if I really knew her at all. Sure, we hadn’t told each other everything about ourselves, but that type of behavior seemed a bit extreme for a teenager.

  Melvin removed the keys from the ignition. “I’ll check if the jack is from her car,” he said, making his way to the trunk.

  I nodded idly and watched as he slipped the key into the hole. I was still trying to figure out why Chloe would’ve done this when the trunk lid swung up. I frowned when I saw Melvin’s mouth drop open and his eyes grow instantly wide. He lurched backward and screamed, “Holy shit!”

  I rushed toward the trunk, but he waved his arms and screamed for me to stay back. I ignored him, continuing forward. When he stepped into my path, I shoved him aside and craned my head to see what all the fuss was about. When my eyes came to rest on what he had seen, I jerked my head away and fell to my knees. Bile rose to my throat and I vomited on the ground.

  CHAPTER 32

  Susan rushed past me and stopped dead in her tracks, staring in disbelief. “Dear God,” she said in a strained voice. “What in the hell’s going on?”

  My head swam. I felt weak. I thought I was going to pass out, but I somehow managed to hold myself together until the moment passed. As I slowly processed what I’d seen, anger began to grow in the pit of my stomach. After a dozen uncertain seconds, I stood on wobbly legs and approached the trunk.

  “Jesus, Clint, just stay back,” Susan pleaded.

  I shook my head and reached for the trunk lid, steadying myself. I forced my eyes back to Chloe’s lifeless face and bit down hard, trying to keep what was left of my lunch in my stomach. I felt numb. The woman I’d come to know was lying in a heap in the trunk of her own car—and it might very well be my fault.

  Chloe’s face was ashen and her eyes were wide open, as though she’d fought death to the very end, trying not to let the light fade to darkness. I reached out to touch her and jerked my hand back when I felt her cold skin. It was not how I remembered her. Her body had always been so warm and inviting.

  “Chief, I’m so sorry,” Melvin said. He put an arm around my right shoulder and Susan put an arm around my left one, and we all stared in silence.

  After what seemed like forever, I allowed my eyes to take in the rest of her body, searching for clues as to why she was there. She was wearing a green sun dress and matching sandals. There were three dark stains on the front of her dress, and I winced when I realized it was blood from gunshot wounds. I moved closer on unsteady legs and tilted her head to the side. In her left ear there was a snowflake earring I’d bought her for Christmas, but the right one was missing. Her fingernails were intact and clean, and her knuckles didn’t appear bruised. I lifted one arm and then the other, but none contained any defensive wounds.

  “It’s like she didn’t know what hit her,” I mumbled. “Like she didn’t see it coming.”

  “Chief, didn’t you say someone opened the bridge Wednesday night?” Melvin asked.

  Not taking my eyes off of Chloe’s body, I nodded.

  “It must’ve been the killer,” he said, “because someone broke into the bridge cabin, and it looked fresh. I’m going process the cabin. I’ll search for prints, DNA, shoe patterns—anything I can find.”

  I nodded again, but I already knew what he’d find. The Parker brothers were responsible for this. They’d attacked Amy at the bridge and they dumped Chloe and her vehicle into the bayou.

  When Melvin had driven away, I shook my head to clear it. I needed to tell Chloe’s parents and then I needed to hunt down the Parker brothers and take them in. I was hoping they resisted arrest, because I wanted them dead. But I couldn’t start tromping around in the swamps until that tracker from the sheriff’s office arrived at the scene. If I messed up any potential scents, we’d never find them.

  “Where’s Gretchen Verdin?” I asked to no one in particular. “We need to start tracking these bastards right away!”

  “She’s on her way,” Sean called out. “She should be here in fifteen minutes.”

  Susan moved in front of me and put her hands on my face. Looking me right in the eyes, she said, “You need time to grieve and you need some rest. We can take care of tracking the Parker brothers. I’ll see to it personally.”

  I grunted and shook my head. “No way are you taking this from me, Susan. The Parkers are my problem and I’m going to deal with them.”

  Susan chewed on her lower lip for a moment. Finally, the hard lines on her face relaxed. “Okay, but I’m going with you.”

  “That’s fine.” I reached up and pulled the trunk shut. “I don’t want people gawking at her like this.”

  “I understand,” Susan said. “I’ll get Mallory and Doug down here to process the car. It’s best if they handle the investigation.”

  “They can handle the case, but I’m making the notification.” We made our way back to the bank of the bayou and I pointed to where my AR-15 was leaning against one of the pillars under the bridge. “Do you need more ammo for that?”

  She nodded.

  “After we notify Chloe’s parents, we’ll drive to my house and load up on ammo. I want to make damn sure we have enough firepower to put an end to this shit.”

  We were about to leave when I heard the roar of an engine approaching at a high rate of speed. I turned to see Reginald’s large F-250 skidding onto the shoulder. He jumped out and approached Susan and me at a brisk walk.

  “Isabel said Chloe Rushing was found dead,” he said. “Is it true?”

  I nodded. “She was murdered.”

  “Damn.” Reginald shook his head and frowned. “I’m sorry, Clint, and so
is Isabel. She told me to let you know we’re here if you need anything. She wanted to come here herself, but she’s stuck in court.”

  I thanked him and told him we had to go. “We’ll be back in a few,” I explained. “Melvin can update you on what’s been going on here.”

  CHAPTER 33

  8:45 p.m.

  Clint Wolf’s House

  Ringleader scanned the restaurant. His front tooth on the left side was missing and he pushed the tip of his tongue through the gap, then scowled. “When I give an order, I expect it to be followed. When it’s not, there are consequences!”

  “Sir, you’re right. I disobeyed your order—”

  “I know I’m right!” Ringleader jerked Abigail around in front of him as he stepped forward. She screeched in terror, tears pouring down her pale face.

  “Abbie, it’s okay,” I said calmly. “Just look at Daddy. I promise you, everything’s going to be—”

  “Shut the hell up!” Ringleader pointed the pistol at me. “Are you a pig? You’re acting like a pig right now.” He sniffed the air. “You smell like a damn pig!”

  There was too much distance between us for me to disarm him. I shifted my eyes from him to the other three men. I could see Paunchy dragging himself to his feet in my peripheral vision. The pistol was on the floor in front of him, but was too far from me.

  Ringleader shoved the pistol roughly into the side of Abigail’s temple, making her cry even louder. He glared at me. “Are you a pig?”

  “No, I’m not a cop. I’m just a guy who took his wife and daughter out to dinner. Please, I’m begging you not to hurt her.”

  “Begging, eh? Get on your knees and beg me like you mean it.”

  I dropped to my knees, folded my hands in front of my face. “Please, sir, I beg you not to hurt Abigail. She’s six years old. She just recently graduated from kindergarten and—”