Proving Grounds: A London Carter Novel (London Carter Mystery Series Book 2)

by BJ Bourg

  Clayton wanted to say something, but was afraid his voice would shake, so he just stood there watching as Joyce pushed her bikini bottom down her slender legs and stepped out of it. As though sensing his lack of experience, she stepped forward to take charge. She reached for the bottom of his shirt and pushed it upward toward his head. Her cold fingers brushed against his stomach as she removed his shirt, and he quivered.

  Once his shirt had joined her bikini at their feet, she pushed her tight breasts against his chest. He couldn’t believe how firm they felt. He placed his hands on her smooth hips and worked them around to the small of her back, and then slid them lower and lower.

  Joyce pulled back a little to give herself room to work on the front of his cargo shorts. While she struggled with the button, he continued to stare down at her nudity as though he were seeing a naked girl for the first time. Well, I guess it is my first time up close and personal, he thought. After all, it had been dark when he’d slept with Lauren.

  When the button was finally unfastened, Joyce tilted her head upward and wrapped one hand behind his neck, kissing him full on the mouth. Her other hand snaked down the front of his shorts and into his underwear.

  He groaned as her hand crept lower and her tongue darted in and out of his mouth, circling his own tongue. She was an aggressive kisser and it intimidated him. Can she tell I’m not experienced? The thought might’ve been enough to make him lose his concentration, but she was too damned perfect and he found himself not caring what she thought anymore. All he cared about was what she was doing, and he was feeling things he’d never felt before.

  Joyce was moaning as she kissed him and he could feel the vibrations against his mouth. She tasted like spearmint and smelled like—

  Joyce suddenly stopped in mid-moan—her tongue going completely limp in his mouth—and she fell through his arms as though her knees just gave out.

  “What the hell?” Clayton said in shock as Joyce crumbled in a heap at his feet and rolled against the side of the boat, dangling halfway over the edge. He gasped and threw himself backward when he saw the blank look on her face and the hole through and through her head. Blood drained from one of the holes and into the bayou, clouding up the green water. He’d never seen a dead body before, but there was no doubt in his mind she was gone. He stared about in confusion. What the hell’s going on?

  He suddenly remembered the sniper murder. What if the bastard had struck again? What if I’m next?

  Propelled by fear, Clayton threw himself toward the operator’s seat to fire up the engine. The boat wobbled roughly as he moved and Joyce slipped over the edge and disappeared into the darkness below.

  “No!” He started to reach for her, but decided against it. The sniper could be aiming at him at that very moment. Thinking only of getting the hell out of there, he revved up the engine and held on while the boat lurched forward. He glanced back once to look for Joyce, but she was nowhere to be seen. When he turned to face the front of the boat he screeched as a low-lying branch caught him across the chest and knocked him backward. He flipped over the seat and landed roughly on the outboard motor. He tried to grasp onto the slick surface of the motor, but it was no use. He hit the water on his back and sank like an anvil, narrowly escaping the blades of the propeller.

  CHAPTER 18

  Dawn and I arrived at the Seasville Boat Launch at ten o’clock on Saturday morning. A cool breeze was blowing in from the water, but it was far from cold. It was just enough to keep the gnats at bay and that was fine with me. I was accustomed to mentally blocking out all elements to get my work done, but if I didn’t have to deal with the pesky bugs, then that was a plus.

  We met Norm by the ramp at the far end of the dock. He had already launched the Boston Whaler and was driving across the lot to park his truck. I placed my drag bag and rucksack in the boat and then looked toward the northern end of the parking lot. I didn’t see any of the protestors hanging out near the pier. There was an old van parked in the northeastern corner of the lot amongst some tall grass, but I wasn’t sure if it belonged to any of the activists. Even the news reporters were gone, and I figured that could account for the disappearance of Shannon and his group. After all, most protestors thrive on exposure, and if there aren’t any cameras to record them, they don’t feel it’s worth the time. That whole “if a tree falls in the forest” thing.

  “You think they all pulled up and left?” Dawn asked, pointing to where the tents had been lined up yesterday. The only signs that a mob had been there were a few black marks in the gravel where the campfires had scarred the surface.

  “I didn’t peg Shannon as the type to just give up on a cause,” I said, “but you never know. He might’ve been called away to save some centipede out west or a rare butterfly up north.”

  “Maybe he didn’t give up after all,” Dawn said idly, pointing toward the water.

  I turned and saw a boat racing north along Bayou Magnolia…and it was approaching us at a high rate of speed. I squinted. As it drew nearer, I recognized Shannon behind the steering wheel. There were at least three people in the boat with him, two of them women. “What the hell is he doing?”

  Movement farther south caught my eye and I turned to see a half dozen other boats speeding after Shannon.

  Dawn looked puzzled. “I think they’re chasing him.”

  As the half dozen boats passed our location, one of the men waved wildly into the air and screamed at us, pointing frantically in Shannon’s direction. It sounded like he was accusing Shannon of cutting his lines. I quickly turned toward Norm. Completely unaware of what was taking place on the water, he was just getting out of his truck and had stopped to hitch up his sagging pants.

  “Can you drive this boat?” I asked Dawn.

  “Like a car.” Without waiting for me to say another word, Dawn jumped in the boat and fired it up. Sliding in beside her, I held on as she gunned the twin engines. The propellers churned the water angrily as the boat lurched forward. We quickly pulled away from the pier, leaving Norm to scream at us from the parking lot.

  Dawn headed north and we were soon gaining on the flatboats that were chasing Shannon. The wake from the boats in front of us made the ride rough. The front of the Boston Whaler shot high into the air and crashed down hard, sending rivulets of water raining down on us. We rocked forward with each crash and it was a wonder one of us didn’t fly out of the boat.

  The rough ride did nothing to slow us down. Dawn maneuvered the boat like she was born to it and we were soon overtaking the fishing vessels chasing Shannon. I checked out the console and found the switch for the siren and lights. I activated them.

  The men in the last boat began cheering as we sped by them. One by one we passed up the other boats and began closing in on Shannon and his crew.

  Dawn steered the boat into the waves from Shannon’s boat and we shot over the cusp line, settling roughly into the turbulent wake directly behind his vessel. The siren screamed loudly and it looked like they could feel us breathing down their necks. One of the women glanced over her shoulder and screamed at Shannon to go faster, but it was no use.

  Within a few minutes, Dawn closed in like a mountain lion stalking its prey. Just when I thought she was going to drive right up the stern of their boat, she slowed to their speed and began keeping pace with them. The siren screamed at them, but Shannon refused to stop. I snatched up the bullhorn and hollered, “Shannon Reed, this is London Carter with the sheriff’s office. Stop the damn boat…now!”

  Trees and camps zipped by as we continued to pursue Shannon northward. I was holding on with one hand and working the bullhorn with the other, repeatedly commanding them to stop. I glanced at Dawn. Her dark hair was wet and flowing in the wind and her jaw was set.

  “I’m going around them!” she said.

  “Give me one second.” I hollered into the bullhorn, “Shannon, you’re under arrest! If you don’t stop this boat, we’re going to force you over and your people might get hurt. I’m going to
count to three and then I’m going to start shooting. One…two…”

  The bow of Shannon’s boat dipped suddenly and it decreased speed at a dangerous rate. Dawn jerked the Boston Whaler into the stern wave—just barely missing the corner of their boat—and we jostled about, our shoulders slamming into each other. With the skills of a woman who’d spent a lot of time on the water, she quickly recovered and circled Shannon and his people. I dropped the bullhorn and drew my pistol, training it on Shannon.

  “Show me your hands!” I commanded. Shannon hesitated and I yelled, “Now!”

  Shrugging as though bored with me, Shannon slowly lifted his hands and said something to his companions. They also raised their hands and sat there waiting as Dawn navigated our boat next to theirs. I was about to board the vessel when the posse showed up. I recognized a couple of the men as alligator hunters I’d seen yesterday at the launch. One of the men pointed toward Shannon.

  “He cut all of our lines—every one of them!”

  I holstered my pistol and boarded Shannon’s boat, shaking my head when I saw dozens of large hooks littering the bottom of his boat, along with some sneakers and a bikini. A short length of rope was attached to each of the hooks. Some of the hooks were black, some were silver, and the ropes were different colors, all of which identified different hunters.

  “So, you’ve graduated from protestor to criminal. I thought you were smarter than that.”

  Shannon grinned. “Wouldn’t you sacrifice yourself for something you love?”

  I pulled a pair of cuffs from my beltline and placed them on his wrists. I told his passengers to move to the front of the boat and then I nodded to Dawn. “I’ll follow you back to the landing.”

  As I followed Dawn and the posse followed me, I read Shannon his rights and asked him if he was willing to talk to me about what happened.

  “I’m proud of what I did, law man,” Shannon said defiantly. “I may not have brought an end to the atrocities that are taking place here in the Deep South, but this I know for sure—no alligators are going to lose their lives today.”

  I sighed. “They’re simply going to replace their lines and get back to work. All you did was delay the inevitable, as well as cost yourself a hefty fine and, perhaps, some jail time.”

  “Ah, but there’s more…I brought awareness to this dire situation. I will go down in the annals of animal rights history as a martyr for the cause.” He lifted his head high in the air. “Go ahead and persecute me, law man. I will not bow to you or your oppressive rules.”

  I cast a sideways glance at Shannon, wondering if he was crazy or just a good actor. As I watched him, I also wondered how far he might go to save the alligators. Would he resort to murder? He did seem to know a bit about sniper work, which was rare, and he picked up his cigarette butts like a sniper would. I nodded to myself. Yep, it’s time to interrogate Shannon about Norris Simoneaux’s murder.

  CHAPTER 19

  We reached the boat launch thirty minutes later, having to travel at a slower speed on the return trip because of the no wake zones in front of the many camps that lined the bayou. Norm was pacing back and forth along the pier—his phone to his ear—when we arrived. He ran to the ramp when he saw us. “I had backup coming,” he said, huffing. “I didn’t know what the hell was happening.”

  Dawn tossed him her line and he tied it around the dock cleat. He then did the same for me and reached down to help me get Shannon out of the boat.

  As he and Dawn secured Shannon and his friends in their vehicles, I walked to where the alligator hunters were docking their boats. “How’d y’all know they cut the lines?”

  One of the hunters, a leathery-faced man with no teeth, spat a stream of tobacco into the water and said, “I caught the bastards red-handed.”

  “How?” I asked.

  “Well, I checked four of my lines earlier and they were all cut. They weren’t popped, they were cut clean. I knew something was wrong, so I shut my engine down and went undercover, paddling around the edge of the lake to check the rest of my lines.”

  One of the other hunters nodded his head. “All of my lines were cut, too, and when I saw Donnie chasing that sum-bitch, I filed in with him. Lucky you got to him before we did. You mess with my lines, you mess with my livelihood, and I need my livelihood to take care of my family. Yep, I would’ve beaten him stupid if I would’ve caught him first.”

  I knew he was right. You don’t mess with an alligator hunter’s lines without suffering his wrath. I waved for them to follow me, and they spilled out of their boats, joining me on the pier. I pointed to the hooks and rope at the bottom of Shannon’s boat. “Can y’all identify who each of these lines are for?”

  They all nodded and Donnie, who was late walking up, stopped in his tracks and pointed to the numbers displayed on the boat. “That’s one of Wellman Boudreaux’s boats.”

  I turned my head toward him. “What? Are you sure?”

  “Positive.” He shot a thumb over his shoulder. “The bastard either stole the boat or that prick Wellman hired him to destroy our lines to put us out of business.”

  My brow furrowed. “You think Boudreaux would do that?”

  “There’s not a damn thing that piece of shit won’t do to get what he wants,” Donnie said. “The worst thing that happened to any of us out here is his daddy dying. Old Man Boudreaux was barely in the ground when Wellman started messing shit up. I swear…his dad would stand up in his grave and vomit if he saw what was happening to his friends, thanks to his son.”

  “Okay,” I said, starting to turn to walk toward Dawn. “We’ll bring them to the office and find out what’s—”

  I caught my breath when I saw it, unsure if what I was seeing was real.

  “What is it?” Donnie asked.

  Without saying a word, I boarded the boat and stepped to the aft end, squinting. There, sprayed onto the side of the dark-colored outboard motor, was a fine mist of what looked like blood.

  “We’re ready to go,” Dawn called from the pier behind me. “Do you want me to have Norm tow the boat?”

  “Look here,” I said, waving her over. I stepped aside when she boarded the boat and sidled up beside me. She put a hand on my shoulder to steady herself from the rocking of the vessel.

  “Is that what I think it is?” she asked.

  I nodded. “It looks like high velocity spray. Do you have a presumptive blood kit?”

  “I do.” She hurried off and returned a few minutes later with her kit and her camera. After swabbing the suspected blood and testing it, she pursed her lips. “It’s blood and it’s human.”

  I looked toward where Shannon was sitting in the back of Dawn’s car. He was staring at us and there was a weird look on his face.

  “None of Shannon’s people are bleeding,” Dawn said.

  “That’s right.”

  She chewed on her lower lip the way she did when she was thinking. “Then whose blood is that?”

  My eyes locked on Shannon’s. “I guess he’s got some explaining to do.”

  CHAPTER 20

  When Dawn and I were seated across from Shannon in the interview room, I read him his rights and asked if he’d tell me how he ended up with the fishermen’s hooks.

  He tossed back his greasy red hair and cupped his hands over his mouth. After a few long seconds, he threw his hands up in the air. “I must’ve blacked out, because I don’t remember a thing.”

  “Fair enough,” Dawn said, leaning forward and resting her tanned arms on the desk. “Where were you early Thursday morning?”

  Shannon glanced toward the ceiling, seemingly giving it serious thought. “Well,” he said when he lowered his eyes. “I was at the boat launch that morning. This nice gentleman”—he shot a thumb in my direction—“can vouch for me.”

  “Earlier than that,” I interjected. “Much earlier.”

  “I was there earlier than that and later than that. I was there all day.”

  “Can anyone verify you story?”
Dawn asked.

  “Oh, it’s no story, and, yes, my friends can all verify my whereabouts on the day in question.” Shannon stood to his feet and lifted his hands. “May I please get back to saving God’s creatures, thus allowing you two to direct your time and resources in a more productive manner?”

  “Look, Shannon, cut the act.” I stood, too, and approached him with purpose. I didn’t stop until we were nose to nose. “I understand you want to save the alligators—I get that—but a man’s dead and a war’s about to break out between two families. If you don’t tell me what you know, a lot of good people could die.”

  His eyes never wavered and he only nodded slightly. “I understand what you’re saying, but I don’t know anything about Thursday morning and I know nothing about this dead man. God is my witness and my conscience is clear.” He sighed. “Look, I cut the lines and I’m willing to pay the price for violating your oppressive and petty laws in order to save a few precious alligators—if only for a day—but I would never hurt anyone…animal or man beast. I’m a life saver, not a destroyer. So, if there’s nothing else, I’d like to be returned to my friends, who are waiting for me—”

  “You’re going to jail, Shannon,” Dawn said from across the desk. “And so are your friends.”

  “Madam Detective, damage to property when the value is less than five hundred dollars is a misdemeanor. You should know that. The total cost of the lines I cut would barely come to twenty bucks.” He held out his hand. “I’ll accept my summons now and be on my merry way.”

  “You ran from us,” Dawn countered. “Since it was foreseeable that lives were in danger during the chase and you blew through at least three no-wake zones and operated the boat in a careless manner, that’s aggravated flight.”

  I nodded. “You’ll be spending the weekend in jail, my man.”

  Shannon’s shoulders drooped. “You can’t be serious! I was running from those vigilante hunters who were trying to kill me and my friends. Anyone in his right mind would do the same as me. I didn’t know you were behind me until you got close enough for me to hear the siren.” He gave Dawn a wink. “Very impressed with the way you handled that boat, by the way.”