But Not For Fear

by BJ Bourg

CHAPTER 35

  I was about to return to bed when a thought occurred to me. People were usually most vulnerable when they were sleeping. I’d often rousted suspects from their sleep and gotten them to utter incriminating statements with nothing more than a simple question. Maybe I would get lucky once again.

  Knowing I wouldn’t be able to sleep anymore—and wanting to try out my new idea—I quickly dressed for work. I left a note for Susan telling her where I would be. Since my Tahoe was destroyed, I jumped in my personal truck and drove to work.

  Karla McBride was the dispatcher working the night shift. Her face scrunched up when she saw me walk into the office.

  “What are you doing here so early?” she asked. “I didn’t call you out.”

  “I couldn’t sleep,” I admitted. “Too much work to be done.”

  I gave her a wave and headed for the evidence room. Once I’d fished out Gabe’s cell phone, I switched it on, waited for it to light up, and then scrolled through his numbers. I paused when I reached 555-0666. Saying a silent prayer, I hit the number and brought the phone to my ear.

  “Shit!”

  “Shit what?” asked a voice from behind me. It startled me to my boots.

  Resisting the urge to jerk around, I simply took a breath and turned calmly to see Regan Steed standing there in her uniform. She was early for her shift.

  “The number I called is no longer in service,” I explained. I shoved the phone back in the evidence envelope and made a notation on the chain of custody form. As I scribbled the date and time and reason I’d accessed the evidence, I asked, “What’re you doing here so early?”

  “Abel has to drive all the way to Lafayette for work, so he leaves early in the morning.” She shrugged. “On my work days, I usually just get dressed and come to the station since I’m already awake.”

  I glanced at the fresh scar above her eyebrow. She had worked as a patrol cop for the Tellico Plains Police Department in Tennessee for ten years before coming to Mechant Loup, and I was sure she had many scars to show for her hard work. However, the one displayed prominently above her eye was courtesy of the hard head of one of our Cajuns—and she had been on the delivering end of that head butt.

  “Your scar’s healing nicely,” I said as I returned the evidence envelope to the locker. “Before long, it’ll be invisible.”

  She grinned and instinctively brushed a finger along the line where the stitches had recently been removed. “Yeah, it’s not the first and I’m sure it won’t be the last.”

  We walked together to the dispatcher’s station and she hesitated while I continued to my office. I could tell she wanted to follow me, so I waved for her to do so.

  “How’s the case coming along?” she asked, her hazel eyes sparkling with anticipation.

  I told her what we knew so far.

  “This is some pretty wild stuff. We’ve had similar cases in the mountains where a few people just disappeared without a trace. It really spooked the townsfolk. Their imaginations usually take to running, and they come up with all kinds of wild theories. Same as here, I guess.”

  “Yeah, imaginations have certainly begun to run wild.” I shot a thumb toward the window of my office that faced Washington Avenue. “Have you noticed how different things are today than when you first landed here?”

  She nodded.

  “It’s not normal. This is usually our busiest time of year.” I shook my head. “The sidewalks should be crowded with people—tourists and locals—going about their business. It looks like a ghost town now.”

  “Will things go back to normal after the case is solved?”

  “I’m sure. It’s the unknown that scares people. Once they realize it was nothing more than some deranged individual out there terrorizing people and they find out he’s been locked up, they’ll be back.”

  “That’s good.” She smiled. “I just got to this town. I can’t have you guys shuttering it after one month on the job.”

  I nodded thoughtfully and considered the empty streets. A motive started to formulate inside my mind. It seemed diabolical, but it also seemed possible.

  “What’s going on inside that head of yours?” Regan asked in her Tennessee accent. She was studying me intently while twirling the end of her brown ponytail in her fingers.

  “I think fear is the motive for these killings.”

  “You think fear is the motive for the killings, or the result of the killings?”

  I stood and walked to a map of Mechant Loup that was tacked to my wall. I pointed to Le Diable Lake. “This is public land, but until recently, no one from the public has used it. I think folks have always been afraid to venture into that area because of the giant alligators that live out there.”

  “More giant than the big alligator I saw in Bayou Tail the other day?”

  “Oh, yeah, there are some monsters in Le Diable.” I was still working through the theory in my head. “There are a few hunters with leases out there, but they’ll never harvest enough alligators to thin out the population. For years now these ’gator hunters have had the lake to themselves, but more recently, there’ve been wild college parties out there.”

  “What better place to have a wild party?” Regan surmised. “We get them out in the mountains. College kids will rent a remote chalet far from town where they think they can play their music as loud as they can and make all the noise they want. What they don’t realize is there are other folks living out in those mountains and the sound carries. We were constantly shutting down those parties. And when they were done, they’d leave behind a hell of a mess.”

  “I bet.”

  “Oh, some of them are destructive little beavers.” She grunted. “I’ve seen broken windows, hot tubs filled with whisky bottles and beer cans, drains clogged with condoms, and they even burned down one place. Booze and young brains don’t mix.”

  “That’s what people were complaining about at the town council meeting Monday night.” I turned to face her. “And do you know who was complaining the loudest?”

  There was a blank expression on her face. “Who?”

  “Gabe Burke’s father.” I strode back to my desk and took my seat. “Phillip Burke was complaining the loudest about the parties out there on the lake.”

  Regan’s large eyes widened. “Do you think he put his son up to killing those kids to scare them away from the area?”

  She had vocalized what I had been thinking, and it sounded good on the air.

  “Why else would a troubled kid be doing this, if not for his father?” I asked. “I mean, what on earth would Gabe gain from their deaths? The kid couldn’t possibly benefit from the murders.”

  I began to wonder if it was Phillip who had called Laura Cavanaugh from the 555-0666 phone. Even if it was him, I doubted we’d be able to recover that phone. Phillip knew I’d killed Gabe and he knew we had searched his son’s boat, so he would’ve destroyed every piece of evidence on his end.

  I frowned as I remembered the wild expression on Gabe’s face as he had fired shots at Amy and then at me. I wished it had turned out differently.

  Regan’s voice broke through my thoughts. “How do you plan on proving his dad was involved?”

  “Well, he’s in jail right now, so, as a last resort, I can interrogate him and hope he confesses.”

  “And if he doesn’t confess?”

  “I’ll have to keep digging.” I shook my head. “There’re no surveillance cameras underwater, you know?”

  “Are you down to your last resort already?” Regan asked.

  I mulled over her question. “Since Gabe is dead, he can’t finger his dad. If he was the one doing the killing and they were communicating with burner phones, we’ll never be able to tie the two together. The most we can hope for from the lab is that DNA evidence will link the victims to Gabe’s gear, but that still wouldn’t get us to Phillip. So, yeah, I am down to my last resort.”

  Regan nodded, a smile playing across the corners of her mouth. “So, you really thin
k fear is the motive for these murders and you believe Phillip Burke is the mastermind behind it all?”

  “It’s the best thing I can come up with so far.” I fixed her with curious eyes. “You’re thinking something, aren’t you?”

  She nodded.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “If you really think it’s him and you think you’re down to your last resort, why don’t you try to set him up first?”

  “Set him up?” I echoed. “How?”

  “If it’s fear he wants, then show him the opposite. Show him that the public isn’t scared to go back out on the lake.”

  “But they are.”

  “I’m not, and no one around here knows who I am—well, except for that one large Cajun man whose nose I broke with my forehead.”

  My brow furrowed and I leaned back in my chair. “Keep talking.”

  “Why don’t you pull some strings to let Phillip out of jail, and then leak it to the media that a young woman is venturing out on the lake alone, daring that creature to come and find her.” She tapped her chest. “I can be that young woman—although I’m not so young anymore.”

  “You’re not even thirty yet.”

  “I’m twenty-nine and I feel every minute of it.”

  I nodded idly, still mulling over her plan. “If it does work and we’re able to lure the killer out into the open to come at you, it’ll be extremely dangerous. We won’t be close enough to save you. If he strikes, he would be able to drown you before we could get to you. We just can’t risk it.”

  Regan shot a thumb toward the window. “You guys have bayous along your roads. In the mountains, we have rivers with steep drop-offs. Many a poor soul has drowned when their vehicle flipped into a river and they were trapped underwater. I always like to give myself a fighting chance, so I purchased a rescue air tank that I carry in my Jeep. I keep it mounted to the dash. I figured if I’d ever get trapped underwater, I’d pull that sucker out and keep myself alive until help can arrive. That can be my lifeline in this undercover operation.”

  I leaned forward, my curiosity thoroughly aroused. “How big is the tank?”

  She held her hands apart to indicate about eleven inches. “It looks like a water bottle. I usually strap it to my vest when I’m out kayaking. It looks like a water pack.”

  “How long could you survive underwater with it?”

  “It guarantees thirty breaths and I can hold my breath for two minutes, sometimes longer, so I could survive for an hour.”

  I leaned back again, stunned. “This might be the craziest—yet the most brilliant—plan I’ve ever heard.”

  She smiled and folded her arms in front of her chest. “I’m glad I could help.”

  CHAPTER 36

  Amy arrived at the police department a little after seven and she found me at my desk on the phone. I had called for Laura Cavanaugh again and was waiting for her to answer the phone. Amy plopped in the chair opposite me and threw her boots up on the desk.

  Laura answered the phone sounding a little cautious. “Hello, Detective Wolf, it’s been a while.”

  “Yeah, I’m sorry I called you so early this morning.” I hesitated, giving her a chance to say something, but she didn’t respond. “Does the name Phillip Burke sound familiar to you?”

  She sighed. “Are we doing this again? I already feel like I revealed too much information last night.”

  “You didn’t reveal anything,” I said admiringly. “The info you possess wouldn’t be safer in Fort Knox. You’re a steel trap.”

  She chuckled a little. “No, the name Phillip Burke doesn’t mean anything to me. Since you asked about Gabe Burke earlier, I’m guessing they’re related.”

  “They’re father and son.” I hesitated. “I might need your help later.”

  “More interrogations?”

  “No, ma’am. I might need you to help me set a trap.” In my peripheral vision, I saw Amy’s brow furrow and she sat a little straighter in her chair, listening intently now.

  “How so?”

  “If you’re willing to do so, I might need you to interview a young woman at the Mechant Loup boat launch. She’ll be heading out to Le Diable Lake alone in a kayak. She’s going to say she will not be bullied into staying away from the lake, and she’s going to dare anyone to try and stop her.”

  “To what end?”

  “We’re hoping to lure the killer out in the open. Since she’ll be the only person on the lake, the killer will only have one option.”

  “Won’t the killer suspect it’s a setup?”

  “Maybe,” I admitted, “which is why you’re going to interview the mayor and the chief of police and they’re both going to say that they tried to discourage the woman from going out on the lake, and that if she does, she’s on her own.”

  “Do you think it’ll work?” she asked skeptically.

  “I don’t know, but I’m almost out of options.”

  “Will this be an exclusive?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Okay,” she said, the excitement starting to build in her voice. “I’ll get a crew together and we’ll await your call.”

  “What are we doing?” Amy asked when I ended the call. She had dropped her boots to the floor and was leaning forward. “What woman is crazy enough to go out on that lake alone?”

  “Your friend,” I said. “The one you brought here from Tellico Plains.”

  Amy took a breath and smiled. “Ah, I love it! She hasn’t been here long enough for anyone to know who she is. But what makes you think it’ll work?”

  I told her what I’d figured out during my call to Laura Cavanaugh at three o’clock this morning, and I told her I thought someone was working with Gabe. “Laura won’t tell me who called with the false information, but she says it wasn’t Gabe or Phillip. They could’ve used a fake name, so it might still be Phillip.”

  “Are you thinking that Gabe killed Frank and Chrissy on Phillip’s orders?” Amy asked.

  “That, or he did it himself and framed his son for it. Of course, there could be a third person.”

  She nodded and said it sounded plausible. “But who would this third person be?”

  “I don’t know, but if we can catch Phillip or someone else in the act of attacking Regan, we’ll be able to put this case to bed.”

  Amy had a dozen questions about the operation and the safety precautions. After telling her what Regan and I had discussed, I called Mallory and told her our plan.

  “He’s already out of jail,” she said of Phillip Burke. “Someone showed up with $12,000 cash and bonded him out last night.”

  “Who was it?”

  “I’m not sure, but I think it was one of his workers.”

  I ended the call and turned to Amy. “Are you still going to the lab?”

  She nodded. “Yeah, regardless of what happens here, we still need the evidence processed.”

  I agreed and told her I was heading south to Old Blackbird Highway. “I’ll canvass the neighborhood and meet you back here after lunch sometime.”

  She nodded and hesitated.

  I glanced up at her. “What’s up?”

  “Thanks for saving my life yesterday. Everything happened so fast throughout the day that I didn’t get a chance to thank you.”

  “You would’ve done the same for me,” I said simply.

  “Yeah, well, you drove directly into the line of fire. You literally jumped in front of a bullet for me, and I appreciate it.”

  CHAPTER 37

  After Amy and I parted ways, I headed for Old Blackbird Highway. I drove straight to the location where Gabe’s boat had been docked and stopped abruptly in the middle of the road. The boat was gone.

  “What in the hell?” I stepped out of my truck and approached the dock. I looked up and down the bayou. The boat was nowhere in sight. I got back in my truck and drove to the nearest house, which was south of the dock. A lady was on her hands and knees jerking weeds from a flowerbed in the front yard.

&nb
sp; “Good morning,” I said loudly from the shoulder of the road. I didn’t want to startle the woman by approaching quietly.

  She stopped what she was doing and pushed herself to a seated position, resting her hands on her knees. “Can I help you?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’m Clint Wolf. I work for the Mechant Loup—”

  “I know who you are.” She peeled off her gloves and slapped them together. “Is this about what happened to Gabe?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I wanted to question his neighbors to see if any of y’all knew something about his activities within the past few weeks.”

  Although the woman wore a large straw hat, her face was red from the heat. “Well, I didn’t talk to him much, but I had seen him walking on the side of the road almost every day.”

  “When was the last time you talked to him?”

  “Let’s see…” She pushed her hat higher on her head. “I think it was three or four days ago. Probably over the weekend.”

  “Do you remember what y’all talked about?”

  “Well, he wanted to read me a poem he’d recently written about King somebody or other.”

  “King Saul?”

  She snapped her fingers. “Yeah, that’s it! How’d you know?”

  I shot a thumb toward the north. “We found a poem when we searched his boat. What else did y’all talk about?”

  “I asked him what he’s been up to and he said he’s been hanging out on his boat. He smelled of alcohol. I asked if he’d been looking for a job, because he mentioned needing a job a while back, but he said he didn’t need one anymore. He said he was renting his boat out for cash.”

  “To whom?”

  “He didn’t say, but he did say that the angels of death would be coming for him someday.”

  “Angels of death?”

  “Yeah, he said they would be coming for him someday and he would have to be ready to fight them off.”

  I scowled. Had he thought Amy and I were the angels of death? Had someone manipulated him into taking a shot at Amy? In his compromised mental condition, it might be easy to convince him of all sorts of things—things that might get him killed to shut him up.