by Jim Riley
LaBorde turned away from Niki and glared at Phillip.
"If you can’t stomach taking care of our business, then maybe you shouldn't be part of our operation."
"I want to keep making money." Kemp shuffled his feet. "I don't think this is necessary. There are other ways to find out what we need to know."
"You're absolutely right, Mr. Kemp," LaBorde smiled. "I'm glad you thought of that."
Niki shuddered, knowing that whatever interpretation LaBorde assigned to Kemp's’ words were not good for her. She was right.
"Miss country bumpkin, we’ll do this a different way, one that we'll get immense pleasure from but you won't enjoy quite as much."
He turned toward the camp and hollered, "Davis, get your plump, short carcass down here."
Niki looked up and saw Oberlin Davis, III covering his face in the window.
"Davis, I said to get down here now. If I have to come get you, it will not be a pleasant trip down those stairs. You don't want to make me angry. You won't like me when I get angry."
Niki saw Davis disappear from the window. Then he emerged at the top of the steps and gingerly crept down as though walking to a hangman's noose.
After the buyer trudged across the green clearing to Niki and the three men, LaBorde confronted Davis.
"I want you to teach this filthy whore a lesson. Show her how we treat whores around here."
Davis's face blanched.
"What do you mean, Wayne?"
LaBorde emitted an evil laugh.
"You’ll give it to her first. If she doesn't tell us what we want to know after your finish, then the rest of us will take turns. I think I'll wait to go last. I have a special way with whores."
The contractor pulled a 6 inch knife and brandished it at Niki.
" No, no, no." Davis pleaded. "I'm not getting involved with rape. Do you know what they do to guys in jail guilty of rape?"
LaBorde turned the knife toward Davis.
"Do you know what I will do to you if you don't? I'll always wondered how loyal to the rest of us you were while we did all the hard work. Now is the time to prove you want to belong."
Kemp stepped in front of LaBorde, shielding Davis from the knife.
"Wayne, you're out of control. Stop and think about what you're about to do. This crosses every threshold of human decency."
LaBorde's nostrils flared.
"We don't know who this whore is or who hired her. Do you want to go to jail for the rest of your life and become somebody else's whore?"
He ignored Niki and faced each of the other three men in succession.
"I know I don't. I like the lifestyle I have now. I want to find out who is trying to take it all away from me."
"There has to be a better way," Swain responded.
"Then tell me what it is," LaBorde exploded. "Do you want to turn her over to the authorities for trespassing and let her explain what all she's heard us talking about with that fancy listing device?"
He stared at each of them, receiving no response.
"Me either. Unless one of you has a better idea, we have no choice but to do it my way."
Kemp and Swain shuffled their feet, but said nothing. Davis whimpered. LaBorde slid the point of the knife up one of the state employee’s nostrils.
"Shut up, you sniveling coward. Get your pants down and let's get down to business. But don't hurry. We want the sneaky whore to get as much of us as she can stand until she tells the truth."
Niki realized that unless she disarmed them now, she was about to die at the hands of this crazy man on Spirit Island. He turned away from the other three men and faced her.
"You can stop this, you know. All you have to do is answer our questions truthfully. If you don't, then the fault is all yours, not ours."
Niki spat in his face. "Go to hell, use sick—"
His hand came across her face again. The investigator fell to the ground. Not because she could not stand, but to get a little distance between herself and LaBorde. Her feet were the most powerful weapons the detective possessed. They extracted the most damage when they had a little room to work.
Niki felt blood trickling down her lips to her chin. She got to her feet before LaBorde could grab her, but his attention had already shifted to Davis.
"Oberlin, if you don't hurry, the skeeters will carry us all off. Hurry and get your britches down."
Niki watched the small man unbuckled his belt, his body stiffening. Then he unbuttoned his trousers and shoved them down around his ankles. When he stepped out of them, the buyer approached Niki warily, clad only in his shoes, socks, shirt, and drooping boxers.
When he reached within inches of her, he said," I'm sorry. I don't have a choice."
"I do," she shouted.
Her leg exploded so quickly that Davis did not have time to react. Niki's foot caught the small man squarely in his crotch. When he doubled over, shrieking with pain, her other knee crashed into Davis's nose. The resulting crunch resounded across the calm meadow.
Davis staggered back, blood pouring down his face and dripping onto his shirt and shoes. For a few seconds, the other men stood in place, shocked at the fight in the young investigator. LaBorde was the first to act, stepping between Niki and Davis.
"I've always said that if I wanted a job done right, then I'd have to do it myself. Looks like this is one of those jobs."
He raised the blade of the knife to the top of her blouse and flicked the way a button. That is when the warm, gentle cocoon enveloped Niki's whole body. A confident grin spread across her face. LaBorde stepped back, confounded with the change in her demeanor.
BAM!
A tremendous blast burst through the eerie calm. All four men and Niki turned in the direction of the sound. They saw a man standing in the shadows, a military rifle pointed at them. Niki recognized Dalton from his posture but could not see his face.
"I've got a rifle in my hand." Dalton shouted. "I've never used one on a man, but I've seen what it does to them. Not a pretty picture."
The four men remain frozen in place, dumbfounded at the turn of events.
"If I were you guys, I’d drop those guns in a hurry before this rifle goes off again. The next shot won't go to the sky."
Kemp and Swain dropped their guns and LaBorde dropped his knife. Davis remained writhing on the ground.
"All of you step back. If you cooperate, I’ll let you leave this island alive. But don't mistake my kindness for weakness. If any of you try to harm Niki in the future, you'll answer to me. Understand?"
The three men that were still standing turned to leave.
"Hold on," Niki said.
She walked to within inches of LaBorde and spat in his face again. When his hands instinctively raised to cover his head, she landed a perfect kick to his groin. He bent over crying in agony. Then Niki struck again, her foot crushing the same spot. LaBorde went to his knees, vomiting between moans.
"Now they can go," Niki said.
"You two that are still on your feet," Dalton yelled from the shadows, "help your buddies back to your boats. If you ever set foot on this island again, there won't be any talk. You'll be dead. Got it?"
Kemp and Swain muttered their accent and helped LaBorde and Davis to their feet. Niki wiped the blood from her lip and laughed at the sight of Kemp dragging LaBorde to the river. After they were far enough down the trail to disappear, she startled when she turned and Dalton already stood next to her.
"Are you okay?" He asked, dabbing at the blood on her chin.
"Yes, I'm fine." Niki said. "Why didn’t you shoot them all?"
Dalton grinned in the fading light.
"I couldn't."
"Huh?"
"The bullet I fired was the only one I had. I was holding an empty gun on them. Glad they didn't call me out on it."
Niki gave him a tight hug.
"Thanks. That was awfully brave of you."
"Not really," he replied. "They were all bluffing except for LaBorde. He onl
y had a knife. The odds were in my favor."
"If they were bluffing, they sure had me believing them."
Dalton glanced at his empty rifle.
"Sometimes the only way to beat a bluff is with a bigger bluff. I'm glad they didn't call my hand."
"I thought you agreed to stay with Henry in the bunker."
The senator rubbed his chin.
"I meant to do just that but I got this feeling, something spooky, that I needed to come check on you."
"Did this feeling come to you right after a warm cocoon of air surrounded your body?"
His mouth dropped. "How did you know?"
"Only a lucky guess," she replied. "One more thing. I wish you wouldn't have told them my name."
"C’mon. All I said was ‘Niki'. There must be a zillion girls named ‘Niki' in the world. How would they ever find out which one is you?"
Thursday Night
Spirit Island
After dark, the couple moved Henry Welker back to the camp. The old contractor settled into the recliner. The new bandages held up during the transport to and from the bunker.
"What do you prefer for dinner?" Niki asked the two men. "I found some shrimp and oysters in the freezer. It won't take but a second to thaw them out and fry them up."
"Do you mind?" Welker sat up and smiled.
"Not at all," she replied. "I love them myself and it’s one of the few things I can cook without messing it up too bad."
"I can taste them already," Welker licked his lips.
"Don't fix any for me," Dalton said.
"If you don't like these, I can find something else."
"Are you kidding? I don't know anyone in South Louisiana that doesn't love fried shrimp and oysters but if you can stay here with Henry, I want to go into town and poke around some. Never know what might turn up."
"Are you sure? What if somebody sees you?"
"Then you have lost another client." Dalton smiled "Don't worry. I'll be careful."
She extended her hand holding the keys to her SUV in it.
"Take these if you're determined to go. Nobody is looking for my car but they may look for yours."
"Thanks," he said as he took the keys. "I promise to bring them back to you."
She hugged him with feeling.
"I’ll hold you to that."
Thursday Night
Baton Rouge
Oberlin Davis, III sat in the darkest corner of the bar, hoping no one would notice him. His wishes were not to be granted on this dark night. He was already tipsy when the man pulled out a chair and seated himself. An attractive blonde placed a napkin in front of the newcomer.
"What can I get you?"
"I just came to make sure he gets home okay," the man replied. "Looks like he's already had too much."
"I'm only getting started," Davis protested. "I can hold my own with anybody."
The newcomer chuckled, looking up at the blonde.
"I'll have a bloody bull and bring him another of whatever he's having."
Davis smiled and tipped his empty glass.
"Y’all want this on separate tabs or together?" the waitress asked.
The newcomer pulled out a hundred-dollar bill and stuffed it in her apron pocket.
"Let me know when that runs out."
He pulled out another bill that looked like the first one and pushed it in the same pocket.
"That one is for you. Please make sure my friend’s glass doesn't go dry. He hates it when his glass is empty."
The waitress had an extra bounce in her step when she went back to the bar.
"Thanks. Why are you doing this?" Davis tried to focus on his table mate through blurry eyes.
The other man waited for the state employee to take a big swig of the refilled drink before answering.
"Because you're in trouble, Oberlin."
Davis's dull eyes widened. "Trouble? What trouble?"
The newcomer was not in a hurry. He let Davis continue to guzzle his drink.
"This whole rigging operation is about to collapse. You know that, don't you?"
Davis nodded while finishing his drink. "I knew it was too good to last. I knew it would fall apart one day."
"Why didn’t you get out? You've made enough money."
"I couldn't," the drunk blubbered. "It seemed like no matter how much I made, it wasn't enough. The expenses for my wife. They kept getting bigger and bigger. They don't stop."
The newcomer waited for the waitress to bring another drink for the already inebriated little man. After a sip, Davis continued.
"I just wanted—wanted a little more. Then I was gonna quit. Then—then, I was gonna tell them it was over."
"Are you living above your means, Oberlin?"
Davis nodded slowly, taking some time to absorb the question.
"A little. But I swear, I was about to tell them I was through—I—I really was about to quit."
The newcomer noticed the misery evident in the small man's countenance.
"It's a little late for that, don't you think? Do you think the state of Louisiana will care that you were thinking about stopping? Do you think they will believe you?"
“Why wouldn’t they?" Davis became defiant.
The newcomer shrugged his shoulders.
"Let's look. You've stolen millions of dollars from the state already. You've arranged for your friends to steal millions more. Why would they think you’re being honest now?"
Davis emptied his drink and banged the glass on the table. The waitress showed up, but this time brought a larger glass.
"Maybe this will last longer," she smiled.
The other man drew out another hundred from his pocket. She almost skipped away from the table.
"What happens now?" Davis slurred.
The newcomer held up his hands.
"You're asking me? I figured you already have given this a lot of thought. Am I wrong?"
"I am a—I try not to—to think about it," Davis slouched down. "I—I get depressed when I think about it."
The state employee took the huge gulp from the larger glass.
"Come on, Oberlin. Tell me what you think will happen."
Davis set the glass down hard. He buried his face in his hands, and tears rolled down his puffy cheeks and dropped onto his shirt. The man smiled but the state employee was unaware of it.
"Oberlin, that won't help you. I don't know of anything that can help you now."
The tears increased. Audible sobs came from the other side of the table which grew larger and larger. Davis tried but could not lift his head. The newcomer sipped on the bloody bull, nursing it it as though it was the last drink he would ever have.
"You know, I've been thinking about your situation, Oberlin. Even if you haven't."
The sobs subsided. Davis lifted his head long enough to grab a large glass with both hands. After taking a drink, sloshing the liquid would all over his shirt, he buried his head once more.
"Do you want to know what I think will happen to you, Oberlin?" The newcomer spoke softly and slowly. "I think we both agree that the coalition is about to fail."
Davis mumbled his agreement.
"And when it does," the man continued. "Your involvement will quickly come to light."
Davis, his eyes blood red, emptied the large glass. The man waited until he received a new drink and then continued.
"When they find out what you've done, the cops will bust your door down and handcuff you in front of your wife and kids. Then they’ll throw you in the back of a squad car, leaving your wife crying at the door because she doesn't have a clue what is happening or why it’s happening."
Davis said nothing. He kept staring at the tall glass in front of him, searching for answers that were not there.
"Then the next morning, you’ll have a lot of new playmates that can’t get enough of you. You won't be able to see the TV or read the newspaper. But do you know what the headlines will be?"
Davis said nothing.
"They will be full of stories about you, how you were the mastermind behind an evil conspiracy to defraud the state of millions of dollars."
Davis tried to focus on his mate. "I was not the master—master—I wasn't in charge. I just did what I was told."
The newcomer chuckled.
"Listen to me, Oberlin. That won't matter, not a single iota. You work for the state. They’ll be more than glad to make an example out of you."
"Huh?"
"They’ll take your house, your automobiles, your boat, and all the cash in every account you have, even your kids’ college accounts. You won't have a penny to your name. You’ll have to get one of those free lawyers because you won't be able to afford one."
The newcomer waited for the drunken man to absorb the comments. After a few seconds, he continued. "Your wife will be ashamed to be seen by her old friends. She’ll have to move in with relatives. Your kids will hate to go to school with all the other kids thinking about what you have done. They will go to their new home with your relatives, crying from embarrassment. Their classmates will humiliate them."
The sobs returned in greater frequency and volume. Davis tried to pick up the glass but turned it over instead. He cursed and threw his napkin on the table.
“Your kids and wife will have no income. Your wife will have to apply for grants and free meals at the school. They'll have to go to the free clinic when they have a medical issue."
"No," Davis said with more clarity "That— that can’t happen."
"What will stop it? Don't forget, once you get to Angola, the guards work for the state. You stole money from the state. You stole money from the guards. Do you really think they’ll protect you from Big Bubba?"
Davis trembled. He could not control his shaking hands. The fear in his eyes clouded his vision.
"Have you ever worn lipstick, Oberlin?" the man asked. "You will. Big Bubba will make you wear it. When he gets tired of you, he’ll rent you out to his friends. They don't have money in Angola, so he’ll swap your newfound talents for things from the commissary. Things like candy, cookies, and potato chips."
Davis stared, but was no longer seeing.