by BJ Bourg
“I can’t believe he killed his own dad for a piece of land,” Melvin said when we stood and headed for the lobby.
“Yeah, well, you’re not going to believe what he was carrying around in his pocket.”
Melvin had an excellent memory and he stopped abruptly. “Was he the one who dropped the nude picture in the red truck?”
I nodded. “And guess who’s in the picture?”
“Shelly, right?”
“No…his sister, Patricia.”
Melvin gagged. “What in the name of God is he doing with a picture of his naked sister in his wallet?”
“I didn’t ask, because I didn’t want to know.” I stepped out into the night. The mosquitoes were out in force and I turned to Melvin before I left. “Are you sure you want to wait for the van?”
“I’m positive. Besides, you’ve got a wedding to go finish planning.”
It was almost eleven o’clock, so there would be no wedding planning tonight, but I welcomed the chance to head home and relax. Melvin was working the night shift, so he was supposed to be up at this hour. I needed to get some rest so I could finalize my report tomorrow and get it to the district attorney’s office before we left on Sunday.
CHAPTER 44
Wednesday, April 12
Just south of the Mechant Loup Bridge
It was almost five in the morning and Slade and Chastity, both Chateau Parish Corrections Officers, had just left the Mechant Loup Police Department with the prisoner. Chastity flipped down the sun visor to access the light and studied the report. “It says here you killed your dad,” she called over her shoulder to the prisoner locked in the back of the van. “Is that true?”
The prisoner, some guy named Chester Raymond, Jr., but who went by Junior, refused to speak. When she looked back, he was staring blankly out the window.
“Take it all in,” Slade said, glancing in the rearview mirror to see Junior, “because this is the last time you’ll ever see this town.”
“Don’t be an ass, Slade,” Chastity said. “He’s not bothering you, so you don’t need to bother him.”
“Whose side are you on?” Slade asked.
Ignoring him, Chastity twisted around in her seat. Due to the streetlights pouring in through the windows, she was able to make out part of Junior’s face. He looked lost and empty. Unlike any other killer she’d ever seen. Most of the others were okay with going to jail, because they’d been there most of their lives. It was familiar to them. This guy looked like a wolf caught in a trap and he knew there was no way of escape.
“What the hell—?” Slade hollered.
Chastity lurched violently forward as the van screeched to a sudden stop. She spun around in her seat and gasped at the image before her. There, in the middle of the highway, was a naked woman stumbling about, apparently disoriented. The woman was toned and well built, and long red hair flowed down her shoulders. Chastity couldn’t detect any injuries on the woman’s bare body.
“Something’s wrong,” Slade said. “I think she’s being attacked.”
Chastity scanned the highway in front of them. There were no lampposts in the area, so the only source of light was from the van and it didn’t adequately illuminate the shoulders of the road.
“Help me!” The woman threw herself to the ground in front of the van.
“I’m going!” Slade jerked off his seatbelt.
“Wait!” Chastity grabbed his arm. “This could be a trap.”
“You’re being paranoid. We might work in transport, but we’re still deputies and it’s our job to respond when someone’s in trouble—and she’s clearly in trouble.” Slade pushed his door open and dropped from the driver’s seat.
Chastity turned to look at the prisoner. He was grinning.
“Slade, don’t!” Chastity yelled. “It’s a trap!”
It was too late. A man with a crazed look in his eyes had appeared from out of the shadows near the Mechant Loup Bridge and shoved a lever-action rifle into Slade’s left ear. Slade yelped in disbelief and his eyes widened.
Chastity immediately reached for the pistol at her side, but the man with the rifle called out to her. “Lady, if you do that I’m gonna kill him and then I’m gonna kill you.”
In that split second of hesitation, the naked woman had closed the distance in the highway and pulled open the passenger’s door. Chastity felt her pistol being removed from its holster, as well as the ring of keys clipped to her belt.
“Ma’am, think about what you’re doing,” Chastity said, trying to glance over her shoulder to get a bead on the woman’s location. Without saying a word, the woman removed the radio and both pairs of handcuffs from Chastity’s belt. Before slamming the van door shut, the nude woman jerked Chastity’s arms behind her back and cuffed her. The man with the crazed eyes had removed Slade’s pistol, radio, and cuffs, as well, and handcuffed him to the steering wheel. The man also took the keys from the ignition.
“This is a felony,” Chastity called out when the back door to the prison van opened. “You’ll spend a lot of time in prison for this.”
“What are you doing?” Junior asked after the chains that bound him clanked to the ground.
“You’re coming home,” said a soft female voice, “where you belong.”
“I didn’t do what they say I did,” he mumbled.
“I know,” the female said. “As soon as you’re home safe, I’m going to come back to town and take care of Shelly Smith once and for all.”
Before Chastity could utter another warning, the van doors slammed shut and the prisoner and his rescuers were gone. They simply disappeared like shadows in the night.
“I can’t believe this happened,” Slade said, his voice trembling from the adrenalin dump.
“Oh, I can,” Chastity said, straining to squeeze her right wrist through the strands of the cuffs. “Using a nude female body to distract a man is as old as dirt and seems to work every time.”
CHAPTER 45
Two hours later…
Somewhere in the Forbidden Swamps
In unison with Susan, I dipped my paddle gently in the water and we pushed our pirogue forward. I looked to my right. About thirty feet away, Melvin and Takecia were moving as silently as we were. The fog was thicker than steam from a hot shower and the two of them looked like ghosts on the water.
Earlier, a passing motorist had located the prisoner transport van parked in the middle of the highway just north of the Mechant Loup Bridge and phoned it in. When Melvin arrived, he located the transport officers handcuffed in the front seat. The female guard was embarrassed and angry, while the male guard was unapologetic. He told Melvin he would’ve done the same thing if he would’ve seen a woman in obvious distress.
Melvin had immediately called Susan and then Sheriff Buck Turner, and we had assembled an arrest team and headed for the swamps in three boats. Melvin’s wife had called him three times before we moved out of cell phone range and demanded that he turn around and return home. As tempting as it might’ve been, and as terrified as he was of the Forbidden Swamps, Melvin didn’t give in to his wife.
Once we were within a mile of the Raymond camp, we split up into four teams of two and abandoned the motor boats for canoes and pirogues. Our approach had to be stealthy or we wouldn’t survive the morning, of that much I was certain. I’d elected to come in from the front with my team, while sending the four sheriff’s deputies to the rear. I knew the potential danger that awaited us in the minefield of swamp water in front of the camp. Since it was my case, it was only right that I assume most of the risk.
When we were within a hundred yards of where Melvin and I had first encountered the Raymond clan, I waved at Melvin and gave him a hand signal to stop his pirogue. I then nodded toward Susan to let her know I was going overboard. I could tell she still didn’t approve, but we’d already discussed it and we all knew someone had to scout ahead.
I eased the pirogue closer to a large tree that jutted out from the water to the left
of us. Once I was under a low-lying branch, I slung my AR-15 over my shoulder and grabbed the branch. Performing a slow-motion pull-up, I lifted my weight from the pirogue. I waited until Susan had pushed the pirogue away before beginning to lower myself.
Cool water gushed into my boots and saturated my pant legs as I lowered myself into the giant bowl of swamp. The water crept higher and higher until the soles of my boots finally hit bottom. I was waist deep in the swamp, with the water stopping just below my body armor. I held my AR-15 high to keep it from getting wet. Making my way slowly toward Chester Raymond’s camp, I dragged my feet as I moved so I wouldn’t step on an alligator.
I glanced over my shoulder when I heard a hissing sound. Susan was pointing toward an alligator off to my right about twenty feet. I froze and studied the head poking up out of the water. It was huge. I swallowed hard. I didn’t mind facing down guns and bad guys, but getting eaten alive by an alligator was not on my list of things to do.
After studying the head for a few moments to ensure it was real, I pushed forward. We were hoping to catch Patricia and her brothers in the camp so it would be a fair fight. We didn’t want to tangle with them in the water, where they were comfortable.
I suddenly froze as something hard and rough brushed up against my right thigh as it passed by; shoving me over and nearly knocking me off my feet. I pointed the muzzle of my rifle into the water around me, staring wildly about. It felt so strong that it had to be a gator—and a massive one.
I caught movement in my peripheral vision and saw Melvin rising to his knees in his pirogue. His rifle was pointed in my direction and he was scanning the water that surrounded me. After a tense minute, I finally exhaled the breath I’d been holding and gave him a nod to let him know I was okay.
I made no sound as I moved. I drew farther away from the pirogues, scanning the surface of the water for any signs of Patricia and her brothers. Except for the occasional alligator, there didn’t appear to be any danger lurking in the water this morning.
A blinding patch of dense fog was rolling in from my left and I knew visibility would be reduced to inches, so I turned to let Susan and all know they could get out of their pirogues and join me. The water splash was so subtle that I thought I’d made the sound, but when I saw the expression on Susan’s face I knew there was something behind me. I whirled around and found myself staring into the muzzles of two double-barreled shotguns and one lever-action rifle.
Patricia, clad in a nutria skin vest and pants, was more to the left and she had taken cover behind a giant cypress tree. Dickie was squatting in a patch of palmettos straight ahead, and he was shielded by the cypress knees that surrounded him. As for Junior, he was off to my right, water dripping from his face and the alligator head resting firmly in place. He was standing out in the open like a gunslinger from the Old West and it appeared he was prepared for what would happen next—no matter what it was.
All of their firearms were pointing directly at me. My AR-15 was still directed toward the water and I thought about lifting it to take a shot, but I knew they’d cut me in half before I could squeeze the trigger. Instead of forcing a confrontation, I slowly moved my rifle away from my body with my left hand. “Hey, Patricia, we just came here to talk.”
“You must think I’m stupid.” Her red hair was wet and dark and her eyes spat fire. “We told you the last time you came here that you were trespassing. This is forbidden territory. We have a right to enjoy our land without the fear of government intrusion—
“Don’t move!” Patricia hollered to someone behind me. Her eyes never left mine and the muzzle of her shotgun never wavered from where it was pointing at my chest. “If any of you move a muscle, we’re going to unload everything we’ve got into your Clint Wolf. Is that understood?”
I heard a chorus of mumbling behind me. As I weighed my options, I wondered how much progress the sheriff’s deputies had made. They were supposed to try and find the network of boardwalks and make their way to the back of the camp, where they would help us box in the Raymonds. I stole a glance toward the direction of the camp, but the entire area was cloaked in thick white fog and I couldn’t see the structure.
“I want everyone to drop their guns in the water,” Patricia said coldly. “If not—”
“Clint gets it,” I said in a mocking tone. “Look, Patricia, you need to know something about Junior. It’s important.”
“What could you possibly tell me about Junior that I don’t already know?” Patricia’s mouth twisted into a wicked grin. “Were you going to tell me he killed my father again?”
“Yeah, but I have evidence—real evidence. If you lower your weapons and come with me, I’ll show you a video tape of him shooting your dad from the front seat of that red pickup truck.”
“As I said, you couldn’t possibly tell me anything about Junior I don’t already know.” Her eyes narrowed. “Who do you think told him to shoot our father?”
I gasped out loud. “Wait—you?”
The evil grin remained glued to her face. “We were not going to sit there and watch him give our inheritance away to that unworthy tramp. No, sir, we’ve worked too hard our whole lives to have our land stolen out from under us by some marriage.”
“If that’s the case, why not kill Shelly?” I asked, forgetting for a second the real and imminent danger I was in.
“Oh, if we would’ve gotten rid of Shelly there would’ve been another girl, and then another. No, we had to put an end to the threat to our survival—our way of life—once and for all.” Patricia’s index finger whitened around the trigger and I braced myself for the shot that was sure to follow. “But it seems another threat has materialized and we’ll have to deal with that one, as well.”
Thinking quickly and trying to buy time until the sheriff’s deputies could make their way to us, I shot my thumb over my shoulder. “If you kill me, they’ll kill you and your brothers. What’ll happen to your land then? Hell, if y’all aren’t around to contest Shelly’s will and the detective who worked the case is also dead, guess who’s going to be building a restaurant right where we’re standing? Are you sure you want to take that chance?”
Patricia’s face slowly relaxed and her index finger moved away from the trigger. The shotgun was still pointing directly at me and I didn’t like it, but I had her thinking and that was a good sign.
“There’s another way out of this,” I said. “You can lay down your firearms and we can resolve this peacefully…like we did the last time we were here.”
“Dickie,” Patricia said over her shoulder, “point your rifle at the one Clint Wolf is about to marry.”
In my peripheral vision I saw Dickie twist around and aim his rifle in the direction I knew Susan to be.
“Wait, what are you doing?” I asked. “Dickie, turn that rifle back toward me.”
“Junior, cover the other male cop.”
“On it, Sis.”
“Wait up now,” Melvin hollered. “I swear to God, I’m going to kill you if you point that gun at me.”
Junior hesitated.
“Come on, Patricia,” I said calmly. “We can work through this—you and me. Let’s resolve it peacefully. Y’all don’t have to die out here today.”
“Patricia, what am I doing?” There was panic in Junior’s voice. “Am I covering the male cop?”
“Detective Wolf is right.” Patricia sighed. “We don’t have to die out here today.”
It was only then that I realized I’d been holding my breath. I exhaled forcefully, but stopped short when I caught a glint in Patricia’s eye. Without as much as a blink, she pulled the trigger. I took the full force of the blast to my gut and stumbled backward in the water.
CHAPTER 46
The shotgun blast to my body armor had knocked the wind out of my lungs. I dropped to my knees in the water, frozen in place, trying to suck in some air. Gunshots erupted all around me, but my only thought was Susan. Gritting through the pain, I turned my rifle toward Dickie’s positi
on, but he was gone. I didn’t peg him as the type to abandon a fight, so I figured he was moving to a position of advantage. Thanks to the fog, it would be easy to do.
I glanced over my shoulder and saw Susan wading through the water, heading straight for me.
After a few more attempts, I was finally able to suck a little air into my lungs. I tried to holler at Susan to get down, but only a wheezing sound came out. I knew if Dickie hit her with his rifle, the bullet would most likely zip right through her body armor. I spun wildly around, bringing my AR-15 to bear and trying to get a bead on Patricia or Dickie. I’d seen Junior go face down in the water and knew someone had gotten him.
I heard Melvin asking Takecia if she was okay and she answered that she was fine. Susan reached me and helped pull me toward a clump of trees that grew off to the left. My eyes were wide as I searched for Patricia and Dickie, trying to penetrate the shadows of the trees and the thickness of the fog.
I pressed my lips against Susan’s ear. “Can you see anyone?”
She shook her head, stepping around one of the trees to scope out the area behind us. Everything was deathly calm now. To an unsuspecting eye, this was just another quiet day in the swamps of Louisiana.
Susan grabbed my arm and nodded toward a figure that was slinking from tree to tree a dozen feet away. It was Patricia and she was stalking Melvin’s location. I pulled my rifle to my shoulder.
“Patricia, drop your gun or I’ll shoot!” I commanded. The front sight on my rifle was resting right over the tip of her nose. “I mean it!”
Patricia hesitated. I didn’t want to shoot her, and I said a silent prayer that she’d drop her shotgun.