by Jim Riley
Still no signal. Niki sipped the last bit of brown liquid from the cup. Deciding that she needed a refill, she stopped at a convenience store in Prairieville, one of the more upscale communities in the Baton Rouge Metroplex. On a whim, she pulled out a photograph of Gary Dixon and showed it to the counter clerk.
After shoving it across the counter, she asked, "Have you seen this man before?"
"Si, Si," the smiling clerk exuded.
Niki's eyes widened and a broad smile broke out.
"Are you sure?"
"Si, Si." More enthusiasm.
"When did you see him?"
"Si. Si."
The investigator’s smile faded.
"You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?"
"Si. Si."
More smiles
Niki confirmed her thought.
"And your mama wears combat boots, doesn't she?"
"Si. Si."
"And you're the reason your dog is pregnant?"
"Si. Si."
"Gracias, amigo."
Niki paid for the coffee, picked up the photograph, and returned to her SUV. Frustrated, she turned east in the general direction of Hammond. When she got north of Lake Maurepas, the GPS black box began to flash.
Although the signal was weak, the investigator saw it was steady. She turned south to Springfield, following the highway to a public pier. She exited the sports vehicle and walked to the end of the structure.
Here she received the strongest blips.
Dang. He's drowned in the lake or somebody killed him and dumped them in the water. Either way, he won't be calling Carla again to report that he’ll be late coming home. This time, he will be real late.
Then the signal began to move. Slowly. But there was no doubt the watch was moving.
What the heck is that? Is he swimming underwater? Does he have scuba equipment? This doesn't make any sense.
Then she saw the massive head of an alligator pop up right where the device was pointing.
Either that big fella has a taste for expensive jewelry are he ate Gary Dixon's arm. This is one for the books.
Niki stood on the end of the pier and watched the alligator swim right up to her. She retrieved the other biscuit from the SUV and tossed it to the huge reptile. It was but a morsel for his appetite.
He is used to being fed. I wonder who fed him Gary Dixon.
Thursday Morning
Baton Rouge
Niki's next step was at the private security store. The salesman assured her that the long-range voice receptor could pick up any conversation within fifty yards and in the right conditions the range could extend to twice that. He said that she would hear through most walls depending on their construction, but the preferred target should be a window. Niki wasn't sure she wanted to get any closer than fifty yards from the remaining partners. Her obstacle was that Wayne LaBorde, Bill Swain, and Phillip Kemp all operated out of their private offices with shops.
She would stand out like a sore thumb in any of their parking lots. That left Oberlin Davis, III. His office was off of Third Street, down by the river. The public parking lot was huge and people came and went from it all hours during the day.
Davis was the least likely of the cabal to say something incriminating, but this morning he was her only shot. The tall glass building was perfect for eavesdropping on the buyer. Davis, due to the seniority of his position, earned a window office because of his position and tenure with the state. In only a few minutes Niki listened to every word the state employee said. The first couple of hours provided no return on her investment of time and money. Davis flirted with his administrative assistant and then made lewd comments about her to one of his colleagues after she left the office.
Then he called his wife, asking about her day and telling her how much she was looking forward to the weekend with her and professing his undying love. When he got off the phone, he told a coworker that his wife was a bitch and he could barely stand her guts.
So much for what man will say and do.
Then Niki heard the phone ring in his office. When he answered, the conversation lasted less than thirty seconds. It really was not a conversation, because Davis said nothing. After hanging up, he motioned his colleague out of his office and shut the door. He hit a button on a cell phone. Niki could hear one side of the conversation only.
"Okay, I'm back.
"Yes, I'm on my private line. Do you think I'm stupid?
"No, I'm not testy. I just don't like the way things are going.
"Don't you think we should play it straight for this job?
"I don't think that's a good idea.
"I won't have the specs until this afternoon.
"No, my manager wants the bids out this afternoon.
"I can't email or fax them to you from the office. Too many prying eyes.
"I don't want to take a chance on being seen again with you guys. That scene with the country girl last night was enough for me. That was too close for comfort.
"I know where the camp is. I used to meet Henry there.
"Different dock? Why not use the regular dock?
"Hadn't thought of that. You're right though. The cops may have that one under surveillance.
"I can't be there before six. I need to wait for everyone to leave before I can make a copy of the bid. It’ll take me a little while to get there from the other dock.
"I'll see you guys then.”
Niki could tell that was the end of the conversation but it was all that she needed to hear. She assumed that a partner was on the other end, probably LaBorde since he took control from what she could tell the previous night. Almost noon, she figured her best bet was to see if Davis went out to lunch. In a few minutes, she was not disappointed.
He came out of the building in the company of a very young, very attractive woman. When he grabbed her butt while getting into the car, Niki assumed the girl was not his daughter. Davis was almost giddy with excitement sitting next to his alluring companion.
Niki followed the pair to a gated apartment complex on Sherwood Forest Boulevard. She squeezed through the card activated gate when another car entered a lot. The detective found Davis's car in front of a ground-floor apartment. After parking across and down a few spots, she pointed her new toy at the window.
What she heard almost made her sick. Davis told the naïve girl that he was in the middle of a divorce, that he could buy her anything she wanted as soon as the divorce was final and that he could get her a promotion.
Evidently, the administrative assistant had high ambitions for her life and her career. She seemed more than willing to do anything to achieve them. Some things she did for Oberlin Davis, III on this Thursday were acts that Niki had only vaguely heard about and did not want to hear about again. After only ten minutes, Niki shut off the antenna and exited the apartment complex.
Thursday Noon
Baton Rouge
Bill Swain left for lunch a little earlier than usual. His preferred routine was to go to the local city park and walk the paved track surrounding it. His wife, a gourmet cook, always made exquisite dinners that he loved. The only way he could hope to keep his weight under control was to skip lunch and exercise. When the contractor pulled into the park, he noticed an unusual vehicle parked next to the woods. The sports car stood out among the pickup trucks and sedans. He was a longtime frequenter of the facility and knew almost every ordinary user of the park by site if not by name.
He searched the wooded expanse and saw no one out of the ordinary. Swain considered skipping the daily walk. What were a few extra pounds, anyway? After a brief internal battle, he decided he was being paranoid and exited his pickup truck. For the first lap he kept a wary eye on the surrounding brush. After the second lap, he relaxed and shifted his thoughts to the weekend. He had a camp in the fishing port of Grand Isle where outdoors men found some of the finest saltwater fishing in the world.
By the fourth lap, he was dreaming of pulling in a huge bull r
ed fish and a bunch of speckled trout. That's when he felt the bullet rip through the edge of his jacket he was wearing. At first, he did not realize what was happening.
Then instantly, he heard the thwack of a silencer on the end of a gun barrel. He immediately dove for the cover of a nearby pine tree. The bullet ripped his pants, and he felt the burning sensation of a piece of lead leaving a permanent scar on his thigh. He cowered behind the pine tree for several minutes. When he peeked around the trunk, he saw nothing but the usual activity in the park. Kids played on the swing sets and see-saws. Adults enjoyed their sandwiches at the picnic tables.
Swain wondered if they were deaf or if the silencer was that effective. Then he wondered if he was imagining things. One look at his blood soaked pants told him the shooting was real, and he was the intended target. It was then, when he looked up, that he saw the unusual car exiting the park.
Thursday Afternoon
Spirit Island
When Niki returned to Spirit island, she relayed her findings to Dalton and Welker. When told of Dixon's fate, Welker grunted.
"It takes a rotten lowlife scum of the earth to do something like that," he said.
"I can't argue with you on that score," Niki replied. "What it tells me is that whoever is behind this has no ethical boundaries. He’ll do whatever he deems necessary to keep the operation quiet. I’ll bet three of the four remaining partners meet their demise."
"Henry," Dalton interjected, "I don't think either one of us is safe in Baton Rouge. He's already tried to kill you and frame me. There is no telling what he will do next."
"I can tell you," Niki said.
Welker frowned. "Now how do you know what he will do next?"
"Because I heard them planning their next meeting."
"When is it?" Dalton asked.
"In about two hours right here at the camp. They don't trust public places anymore," Niki laughed.
"We need to get back to the bunker and clean everything up here. We don't want them to see Henry's bloodied bandages," Dalton said.
"It won't matter," Welker replied. "They'll see her car at the dock, and see her boat at the end of the trail."
“Not it we’re smart." Dalton looked around.
"What do you mean?" Niki asked. "We don't have to worry about the SUV. They plan to use a different dock."
"That just leaves the boat," Dalton smiled. "I can take it around and hide it with mine. If you can drive the tractor, you can take Henry to the bunker. Those guys probably won't miss the tractor out of the shed."
"Better than that, I'll bring the tractor back here. I want to eavesdrop on their meeting, anyway."
“That may not be the smartest thing to do," Dalton objected. "One of these guys is a murderer. If they find you listening in on their meeting, the others won't act like Boy Scouts."
"I'll be careful," Niki assured him. "I can get up on that old silo. That'll give me a great angle and they’ll never look up there for me."
Dalton remained unconvinced.
"I still don't like it. Too many things can go wrong."
Niki grabbed him by the arm.
"You just watch Mr. Welker and keep him there. Stay in the bunker. The chances of them spotting me is a lot less than if two of us are spying on them."
Dalton sighed. "I don't like it but I'll do it."
Thursday Evening
Spirit Island
Niki saw the gang appear. Swain and Kemp came together fifteen minutes early. LaBorde almost exactly on time. Davis, 15 minutes late. She laid horizontal on top of the silo with the powerful receiver pointed directly at the window in the living room. Reception could not have been better. The detective felt like she was in the same room listening to the conspirators.
First, she heard LaBorde.
"Looks like we know what happened to Gary."
Davis seemed to be shocked by the sound of the man’s voice.
"What? What do you mean ‘happened to him’?"
LaBorde's voice was melancholy. "The police got an anonymous tip. A specific tip. Whoever it was told them that they could find the remains of Gary in an alligator in Lake Maurepas. Even told them which pier to go to and described the alligator."
"How would somebody know that unless he was the one that fed Gary to the gator?" Wayne asked.
"Not a 'he'. A lady called in the tip. I don't know of any ladies that want to kill us." LaBorde replied.
"Well, somebody wants to kill me."
Niki recognized the voice of Bill Swain.
"What are you saying, Bill?" LaBorde asked.
"Somebody took two shots at me at lunch today while I was walking in the park. They were a bit off, thank goodness. Nothing but a scrape."
Davis muttered something, but Niki was could not decipher the words.
"Oberlin, calm down," LaBorde said. "We've got to stay calm and figure all of this out."
"I'd say one of us has already figured it out, Wayne," Kemp replied. "I don't think Bill shot himself and I know I didn't do it. That leaves you and Oberlin. I know where I'm putting my money."
Davis muttered something unintelligible again.
LaBorde responded.
"I didn't take a shot at Bill. If I had, he’d be dead instead of being here pointing fingers."
"Nothing else makes sense, Wayne," Swain said. "I believe Phillip. You took a shot at me. Oberlin probably doesn’t even have a gun. That doesn't leave many options."
LaBorde’s voice rose. "I'm telling you, all of you, that I didn't do it. I didn't shoot at Bill and I didn't feed Gary to an alligator. I don't know what I can say to make you believe me. I'm just as stumped about all of this as you are."
"Were not that stupid anymore, Wayne," Swain replied. "We just have to decide what to do about it."
"Come on, fellows. Don't do anything rash here. Don't do something you'll regret later."
"I didn't sign up for any of this," Davis sounded almost in tears. "Rigging bids is one thing, but killing someone is entirely different. I don't want any part of it."
"Quit your blubbering, Oberlin," Kemp's voice interrupted. "You're already part of this, whatever this is. It's too late for you to back out now."
"But I'm not a killer. I don't want to be a killer either," Oberlin whined in a whisper.
"What was that?" Niki saw Kemp's face appear in the window.
"What?" Swain asked.
Kemp stared straight at her.
"I just saw a glint on top of the silo. There ain't supposed to be anything up there that would cause a reflection off for the sun."
Niki suddenly realized the fallacy of her plan. The tall narrow ladder she used to climb up to the top was cumbersome. Unfortunately, it was the only way down. Getting to the ground without breaking a limb or two without using it was impossible. She gathered the antenna and descended the rusty steps just as she saw the door of of the camp swing open.
Kemp and Swain emerged, both packing weapons. Niki doubled her efforts to get to the bottom quickly without dropping her cumbersome new toy. When she got a few feet from the ground, she jumped the rest of the way. Landing on her feet like a cat, she turned toward the trail. She stared at the business end of two revolvers.
Thursday Evening
Spirit Island
"Hold it right there, little lady," Kemp said, his pistol pointed at her pounding heart.
"Hell, it's the little country bumpkin," Swain exclaimed.
He pistol pointed at Niki's head. Niki could have easily disarmed the two men. Her training as a Weapons Master in the ancient art of Kempo was more than adequate for a situation like this. However, she wanted to let it play out to see where the two men might take her. It was probable that one was a murderer.
LaBorde walked up and stood behind the other two men. He was not brandishing a gun, but Niki had no doubt he carried one.
He ogled her from head to toe.
"First, take that little toy pistol from its holster right above your lovely butt, and lay it gently on t
he ground. I don't have to tell you, these gentlemen are on edge and the least wrong move that you make will get you killed."
Niki placed the antenna on the ground first and turned back to the two men with the guns. Again she questioned whether she should disarm them now or wait until later. She opted for later. The detective reached behind her back and retrieved the Smith & Wesson .38 caliber revolver from its holster. Holding it by two fingers, she laid it on the ground.
"Okay, step toward my friends," LaBorde said.
The strawberry-blonde took two steps forward.
"That's it. Baby steps. We don't want an accident to happen."
Niki took two more small steps with the two guns pointed at her vitals. There was little else to do unless she wanted to end the scene. Her blood froze in her veins, but her sweat glands worked overtime. She hoped that would be the only body function to lose control.
"Who are you?" LaBorde stood in front of her.
Niki used her country drawl one more time.
"I already told you gentlemen. I'm Sarah Sue Easterbrook from Slaughter."
LaBorde put his face within inches of Niki's. His lips curled back.
"We will try this one last time, but this time, I want the truth."
"I told you. I'm Sarah Sue—"
She saw the strike coming and decided to take it. His open palm collided with the corner of her mouth with such force that it knocked her back two steps. LaBorde reached and grabbed her by the lapels of her blouse. He jerked her so close to him that his nose touched her face.
"Last chance. Next time, I'm not gonna be so nice."
"Wayne, let's not go overboard here," Kemp grunted. "It's one thing to make some money, but it is something entirely different when you assault young ladies."