by Jim Riley
Saturday
Ville Platte
They went through the city of Ville Platte and turned north on Highway 167. About four miles north, they took a gravel road back to the east. The road turned out to be a long private driveway to the Lakes Lodge. When they came to an eight-foot fence gate, Niki stopped by an audio box. When she started to press the button, Donna grabbed her arm.
"Don't do that," the younger girl said.
"That's the only way in. I'm not gonna plow my vehicle through the gate."
"If you do, they'll know were coming. We don't want to alert them."
"Then how will we get in?"
"Hold on."
Donna jumped out of the SUV.
The agile girl climbed over the chain-link gate and dropped to the other side. She moved past a motion detector panel, and the gate swung open. Niki grinned as she drove through the opening, stopping to pick up the younger lady on the other side.
"That was quick thinking."
Donna beamed. "It wasn't that hard. This is a commercial hunting operation. They have to let the hunters out after the hunt, so they put in a way for them to leave without getting out of the truck."
Niki followed the winding gravel road. She saw cabins that, on first look, appeared to be constructed of logs. Niki had read articles on these well insulated fireproof structures. The primary material in the construction was Styrofoam, densely packed. It provided for an energy efficient, long-lasting camp.
At the fourth cabin, Niki saw a green Chevrolet Colorado. Checking the license plate, she confirmed that the truck belonged to Ralph Martin. Niki quickly turned around and drove back to the gate after taking pictures.
"Why don't we bust in there and get the girl?" Donna asked.
"It's better to leave it to the people that bust down doors for a living. It improves the likelihood of a longer career if we go by the book."
"But what if he gets away?"
“As far as I can tell, this road is the only way in and the only way out. We’ll park right in front of the gate so he can’t get by.”
The Evangeline Parish Sheriff's deputies arrived in less than ten minutes. Niki show them a copy of the file for Stacy Martin and then presented the pictures of Martin's truck parked in front of the cabin. Then she followed the squad car back to the cabin. She and Donna remained in her SUV while the two officers knocked on the door.
An explosion erupted from within the camp.
To Niki's horror, she saw a gaping hole in the cabin door and one deputy staggered off the porch, clutching his stomach. The door flew open, and Ralph Martin launched out onto the porch, a Remington pump shotgun clutched in his hand. The irate father shot the other deputy at a range of only four feet. Blood and entrails splattered across the porch. Then Martin turned his attention back to the first officer. The deputy laid on the ground trying to stop the flow of blood from his wound. Niki could hear the uncontrollable wails emanating from the law enforcement official.
Martin walked beside the fallen officer. Niki heard him talking to the deputy. "This will teach you to mind your own business. Y'all shouldn't be trying to keep me from my daughter. Now you gotta pay."
Niki leapt out of the SUV and flew toward Ralph Martin. She was not in time. The distraught father shot the deputy right between his eyes. The investigator raced toward the shooter with her .38 Smith & Wesson revolver in her hand. She covered the twenty paces in no time, slamming into Martin. Donna remained stunned in the pickup, staring at the scene with unbelieving eyes.
When Niki collided with Martin, he fell back, stumbling at the base of the porch. She was on top of him immediately, kicking a shotgun away. However, the adrenaline rush in Martin had not subsided. The effects of Niki's blows had less impact than she anticipated. Martin shoved her off him, striking her on the side of the head. Niki kicked a swinging blow to his midsection, temporarily knocking the wind out of the father. He doubled over, exposing his face as he clutched at his soft belly.
Niki drove her knee into the tip of his nose, rolling him over backwards. She yanked out a couple of plastic ties. After securing one hand, Martin surprised her with renewed energy. He pushed her to one side and attempted to get on top of her. Then Niki heard a loud crack, and Martin fell unconscious on the porch. Looking past him, Niki saw Donna holding the pump shotgun like a baseball bat. Her eyes were wide, and her mouth open.
"Thanks," Niki said. "I thought he was about to get the best of me."
Donna stared at the fallen man. "Why didn't you shoot him? You had your gun. I saw it."
"I knew he was out of shells. That Remington only holds three, and he used them all. I'd rather not kill someone unless I have to."
Donna looked at the slain officers. "Now I understand why we didn’t bust the door down. I've got a lot to learn about this business."
A red Dodge pickup rolled up. A heavyset man jumped out with a bolt-action rifle ready.
"What's going on here? I heard shots." He froze when he saw the dead deputies lying in pools of blood.
"Oh, my God. Did Ralph do that?"
Niki nodded as she secured Martin's other hand with a plastic tie. Then she fastened one around his feet.
"Yep. He killed them. Where is Stacy?" Niki responded. She picked up her revolver.
They heard a weak voice from within the cabin. "I'm in here. Please don't hurt me."
Siren sounded in the distant, but Niki did not wait for the backup deputies to arrive. She went into the cabin and found eight-year-old Stacy Martin cowering behind the bed.
"You're going to be okay, honey. I'm here to take you back to your mother. You want to go see her, don't you?"
The little girl burst into tears. "Where is she? Can I see her? I miss her."
"She's at your house. She asked me to find you and bring you back to her. She’ll be happy to see you."
The fragile girl continued to cry. "What if Daddy gets mad at me? He spanks me when I don't do what he says."
"No, honey." Niki embraced Stacy. "I'm not going to let your daddy spank you anymore. I'm taking you home."
Friday Night
Denham Springs
"Are all your cases like this one?" Donna asked Niki after they reunited Stacy Martin with her mother.
Niki laughed.
"Not all of them. But that makes my work interesting to me. Every case is unique, and I never know what to expect."
"But you could have been killed. Why didn't you wait for the police to get him?"
Niki considered her answer before replying.
"I guess it was instinct. It was obvious that Martin snapped. I didn't know if he would harm Stacy and didn't want to see. I wouldn’t have been willing to live with myself if I hadn’t acted and he harmed her."
"Harmed her? What about you?"
Niki grinned. "Why should I have been concerned? I had Babe Ruth there as my backup. The way you swung that shotgun, you could have killed him."
"I wasn't thinking about that. I only wanted to stop him. What will happen now?"
"He’ll be charged with the murder of the two deputies. Unless they rule he was crazy, he will go to death row at Angola. Stacy and her mother can go on with their lives."
"And you?" Donna asked.
"I still have four more cases to take care of besides the one we’re working. I'm glad. It's better for me to stay busy, and not sitting around thinking about it."
"What do you plan to do next to find out who killed Mr. Wilson?"
Niki replied, "I like what you did with the list. To me, we can forget all the clients except for two, Ramirez and Phelps."
"Why those two?" Donna inquired.
"They were the only clients that came to your office after you opened the mail. That means they were the only ones that could have taken the letter opener from your desk. And both of them were mad at Tiger Eye Investors."
"No wonder you’re good. That's something I didn’t think about."
Niki looked over at the young lady. "That still leave
s the staff and Sheila Wilson. She was there Wednesday afternoon. She could have taken the opener."
Donna shook her long blonde mane. "I don't see it. She's not the type to get her hands dirty and stabbing your husband in the back is about as dirty as it gets."
"I haven't talked to her yet, but I trust your instincts. But she was sleeping with Ashton Johnston. My guess is she hired someone to do it if she is responsible. That may suit her better."
Johnson looked at the boxes still in the SUV.
"Who else on the staff do you suspect?"
"Johnson, for obvious reasons. I think you're right about Howard Jenkins. He had a motive and the opportunity. He could have waited for you to leave and taken the letter opener. Nobody would have noticed." Niki took in a breath. "I also like Danny Mayfield as a possibility. He was having a rough time with the market and from what the notes in his file said, Scott was leaning on him hard. He could have feared losing his job."
"Who else?" Donna asked.
"Dale Blocker."
"Why him?"
"There were a few things in his file that didn't make sense to me. Whenever I see something I don’t understand, I get suspicious."
A frowned Donna Donna's unblemished face.
"I don't understand. He’s out of the office a lot, especially during the summer. He loves golf. I think he would love to play on the tour. But that doesn't make him a killer."
Niki nodded. "I agree. It doesn't make him guilty, but I need to get some answers. How often did clients call him?"
They pulled into the Tiger I parking lot where Donna answered. "Uh—Now that I think about it, they never called him. I assumed he was being proactive calling them."
"How often did his clients visit him in the office?"
"I don't remember any of them coming by."
Niki nodded. "That fits what I found in his files."
"What do you mean?"
"From what I saw, Mr. Blocker was rarely at the office, and that's because he had no clients. He got paid like he had several, but I saw no trade tickets, no memos of communications with any clients, no nothing. That's what I meant about not making sense."
Donna shrugged. "Mr. Wilson never said anything about it to me. He didn't keep that many secrets, especially when I wore a dress. Some days, he told me stuff you wouldn't believe just to keep me sitting in his office."
"What kind of guy is Dale?"
Donna ran her hand through her long blonde hair. "He’s okay. He never said anything suggestive to me, but he kept a lot of girlie magazines on his desk. He'd call me in his office sometimes for no reason, and he'd have dirty pictures spread out on his desk or have his desktop on a porn site. I guess he was waiting for me to make a move, but he is in for a long wait if that's the case."
"Was Dale hired by Scott Wilson or Ashton Johnston?"
Donna shook her head. "I don't know. He showed up at the office one day and asked to speak to Mr. Wilson and Mr. Johnson together. I got the impression that neither one of them knew him. Dale said to tell them that Hugh Carter asked him to visit with them. The next thing I know is he got an office. It was kinda strange now that you mention it."
Niki pointed a finger. "Thanks for reminding me. What can you tell me about Hugh Carter, the third partner? There is no file on him, at least not one I could find."
"I think Mr. Johnson keeps one in his office. It's locked in his desk if I remember correctly. I know Mr. Wilson didn't have one. Mr. Wilson never said a lot about him, except that he is good friends with Mr. Johnson. He almost never comes by the office or calls. But he visited Wednesday."
"Who did he see?"
"Mr. Wilson. But it wasn't for long, and he didn't seem upset when he left. Mr. Wilson didn't say anything to me, but then I wore pants on Wednesday."
Niki's cell phone buzzed.
"Hey Dirk. What's going on?" Niki said into it.
Saturday Morning
Central
"I got the cameras installed on the apartment on North Boulevard. They should be ready to go."
"How do they work, Dirk?"
"Your client can set them to record anything that happens while she's out. They activate with motion. If anyone comes in there, we get a taped version. I also set it up for you to get the live version if you want to see it. I'll test the app for you. Just download it and it’ll pop up if someone goes in the apartment when she isn't there."
"When will the cameras be active?"
"They are now. I'll send you the app as soon as we hang up. If someone is sneaking in there, Miss White will find out."
"Thanks, Dirk. I'll let you know how it works."
Niki hung up with Dirk, and immediately called Carla White. She informed Miss White about the surveillance equipment that Dirk installed in her apartment. Niki wanted to make sure her client understood that when the system was turned on, the cameras would display any activity in the apartment. The investigator wanted to avoid any embarrassing situations.
Donna remained silent until Niki finished the conversation with Carla White.
"That sure sounds interesting. What the heck is going on with Miss White?"
Niki completed the few notes on her pad. "She’s a single lady, actually about your age, I guess. She thinks someone is going through her stuff in the apartment when she isn't there. Nothing is ever missing, but some things, especially her underwear, looks like it's been taken out and put back. She's not sure, so she hired us to find out if anything funny is happening."
"Can I help you with that case also?" Donna asked.
"Let's solve this one first. Then—"
Niki sentences interrupted by her buzzing cell phone.
Saturday
Central
"Hey, Dalton. How are you?"
Dalton Bridgestone sounded as if he had gotten no sleep the night before. Niki sensed the fatigue in his voice.
"I'm okay. My sister is having a tough time. Tommy was her firstborn, and they had a real close relationship, especially after his father died."
"What can I do to help you?" Niki asked.
"Find out everything you can about allergies and adverse reactions to peanut butter. The doctor said he died from eating peanut butter."
"Peanut butter? How could he have gotten hold of that stuff? Do kids even eat peanut butter anymore?"
"Evidently, football players do," Dalton replied. "The school feeds the players peanut butter and jelly sandwiches every week before the game. It's been a ritual for a long time."
"Peanut butter and jelly? I thought athletes ate pasta before a big contest, not PB&J's."
"Pasta is more long term. Peanut butter supposed to give them quick energy. It's also cheap and easy to fix for the parents. A bunch of them volunteer to prepare the sandwiches every Friday before the game."
Niki sounded skeptical. "But if Tommy was allergic to peanut butter, wouldn't it have shown up before now?"
"He knew about the allergy. My sister fixes special sandwiches with a peanut butter substitute every Friday."
"I bet that tastes like crap. I've never heard of a substitute for peanut butter. Are you sure?"
Dalton yawned. "I'm positive. My sister showed it to me, and I tried it. The stuff tastes like peanut butter. From what she said, a lot of people can’t eat peanuts, and this product lets them enjoy all the benefits without any of the risks."
"Do you think Tommy accidentally ate real peanut butter without knowing it? That somehow his sandwiches got mixed up with someone else's?"
"That is what everybody is saying. But my sister doesn't think that is possible. She thinks it was deliberate."
Niki whistled. "That's a strong accusation. She is saying someone murdered Tommy. Does she have any proof or is she a grieving mother?"
Dalton sighed. "She’s a grieving mother. She only has a gut feeling."
Niki sucked in some more air. "I don't like the way you said that. Why do I get the feeling that you promised your sister something?"
Dalton hesitated be
fore answering. "Yeah. Kinda."
"What do you mean kinda? What did you tell her?"
"I told her you and I would look into it, but I didn't promise any specific results. Only that we would look into it."
"Dalton, do you realize that I'm neck deep in the murder of your friend, Scott Wilson? We've already got more suspects than time to investigate them all."
“We? You said we.”
"Donna Cross is helping me. She works for Tiger Eye Investors. You met her at the game last night. She's been invaluable so far. I wouldn’t have made the progress I've made without her."
"I remember her. Isn't she that cute little blonde with the nice legs at the front desk? I wasn't paying any attention last night. Too dark."
Niki laughed. "Yes, she is. She’s sitting next to me now. I'll be glad to tell her how intelligent and logical you think she is."
"Hold on. That's not what I meant."
"Okay. Tell me in your own words. Tell me now how ‘cute' and ‘nice legs' translates to intelligence in your masculine lingo. I've always been a little confused about that."
"Come on now. You know what I mean."
"Unfortunately, I know exactly what you mean."
Dalton sides. "I give up. Tell her I think she is a genius with an outstanding personality. How's that?"
Niki did not ease up. "And what part of her genius did you discover with her nice legs?"
"Look, I said I was sorry. What more do you want?"
"For you to go back to your sister and tell her we can't help her with an accident. I wish we could, but it will only give her some hope that will only postpone closure and mourning. That's not fair to her."
"I'm her brother and she needs me. If I look into it and find nothing, then she can go on with her life. Until then, there were always be a lingering doubt."