by BJ Bourg
“Incriminated someone?”
“That’s what he said. He said it would be compromising to someone.”
“But to whom?” I asked.
“That’s just it,” Fred said in exasperation. “He never would tell me who was on the video or what about it was incriminating, but he did say it would take this person down.”
I drummed my fingers on the desk, trying to plan my next move. I needed to figure out who this person was, but how?
“Did he ever talk to you about an iPad?”
“Yeah!” Fred became excited. “He did tell me he had an iPad locked in his safe, and he said everything on his phone went to that device.”
“Would you swear to that in an affidavit?” I asked eagerly. “Kim won’t let me get my hands on that iPad, so I’ll have to get a warrant to search the safe.”
Fred hesitated for a long moment. So long, in fact, that I thought he’d ended the call.
“Fred?”
“I’m here.” He sighed heavily. “I’d hate to do that to Kim, but if you really need that iPad, then I’ll swear to whatever I know about it.”
“Now, I need you to think really hard.” I took a breath. “I need you to try and remember if he’s been having problems with anyone at all. I don’t care how trivial the problem. If he cut someone off in traffic and they flipped him off, I need to know about it.”
Fred seemed thoughtful on the other end. Finally, he let out a gasp. “Yes, he did have problems with someone!”
“Who?”
“I don’t know his name, but this fellow accosted him in a grocery store a few months ago. Ralph said the guy told him to stay away from his girl or he’d whip Ralph’s ass.”
“Was this the husband to the woman he was seeing?” I asked, my pen poised over my notepad.
“No, it was someone who worked for him.”
“Wait, the guy worked for him or the guy’s girl?”
“The guy’s girl,” Fred explained. “I get the impression that she was his secretary.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because the guy accused him of sexual harassment in the workplace or something, and I think he even threatened to file a bar complaint against Ralph.”
“When did Ralph tell you this?”
“Oh, I don’t remember exactly when. We haven’t spoken for a few days, so it’s been at least a week or so ago.” Fred grunted. “The way time flies nowadays, it could’ve been three weeks by now.”
I let out a long sigh, feeling deflated. If the dustup at the grocery story had been three weeks ago, there would’ve been plenty enough time for the boiling blood to cool. While this incident might be related, it also might not, and there was no guarantee it had been Orrin Cheramie.
Of course, there was only one way to find out, so I ended the call and gathered up my notepad.
CHAPTER 19
Ten minutes later…
After meeting with me at the police department, Amy jumped in my Tahoe and we headed for Central Chateau to interview Orrin Cheramie again.
“I came up dry,” she told me as I cruised over the Mechant Loup Bridge and continued north. “Orrin didn’t appear in any of the surveillance footage.”
I nodded and glanced sideways at her. “I thought you wanted to head home for the night.”
“If you’re working, then I’m working.” She tossed back her blonde hair. “I’m not about to miss the action.”
It was almost ten now and, although it was nighttime, it was still warm. In Louisiana, we had two seasons: hot and not as hot. While it was currently not as hot, it was still hot by many people’s standards. I hated winter, so I didn’t mind the heat and wouldn’t complain, but I’d heard a lot of it lately. People were clamoring for fall.
I told Amy that most of the people I’d spoken with said Ralph was a good guy and they couldn’t think of a reason why someone would want him dead.
“I don’t believe that shit,” she said. “That asshole has offended more than a few women, and while they might not all want him dead, I guarantee you he’s crossed the line bad enough to make someone want to put him in the ground.”
I shot a sideways glance at her. “You think he’s crossed the line sexually? I mean, worse than he did with you and Takecia?”
“There’s not a doubt in my mind. And if the woman that he offended wasn’t mad enough to want him dead, then I bet her significant other was. Did I tell you what Baylor said when I told him what Ralph did to me?”
“No.”
Baylor Rice had been working as a patrol officer in Mechant Loup for over five years, and he and Amy had been dating for almost one year of that time. While Baylor was as tough a cop as they came, he was a mild mannered man, and I couldn’t imagine him losing his cool.
“He said if he ever catches Ralph in public when he’s out of uniform, he’s gonna slap him across the face and then drag him down the street by the tongue until he gets to the curb.” She paused and stifled a chuckle. “And then he said he’s gonna piss on him right there in public and then make him bite the curb so he can stomp—”
“He didn’t say that!” I interrupted. “You’re making that up.”
She burst out laughing, and I only shook my head.
Baylor had come from a small town in North Carolina called Sylva. When he had first landed here, I had wondered aloud how someone from the mountains had ended up in our tiny corner of the world, but I’d soon learned that one of his Marine buddies was from Mathews, Louisiana, and he used to come down here to fish. Tragically, his buddy had died during a training exercise in California, and this had prompted Baylor to move down here when he left the service. In all of the time since Baylor had been in Mechant Loup, I’d never heard him talk in the manner described by Amy, so I knew she was messing around with me.
Amy had always joked around and been upbeat, but she had been especially jovial since Baylor had proposed to her.
“Speaking of Baylor, did y’all set a date yet?”
“We were thinking about April sixteenth,” she said casually.
April sixteenth was the day Susan and I had gotten married, so I knew she was joking, but before I could utter a retort, a marked cruiser running code overtook me and passed me up like I was stopped. It was a Chateau Parish Sheriff’s Office vehicle and it was heading north from the southern end of the parish.
I frowned. “I wonder where he’s going.”
“You think there’s been another murder?”
“God, I sure hope not.”
We continued on our drive and the conversation turned back to the case. Since I was driving, I asked if she could take my cell phone and text Mallory.
“Tell her I’ve got new evidence about that iPad,” I said, and then began to dictate the message. When Amy was done, she read it back to me and I nodded my approval. “I think that’ll be enough for a judge to sign the warrant now.”
Amy agreed and plopped my phone back on the console just as I pulled up to Orrin’s house. We could hear more sirens in the distance, and I wondered what might be going on in the parish.
Bright lights emitted from what appeared to be the living room and kitchen windows of Orrin’s house, so I didn’t hesitate to exit my Tahoe and stride up the driveway. As was our custom, Amy stepped to one side of the door and I stepped to the other side before I knocked. It was barely a second before footsteps pounded the floor.
“He sounds angry,” Amy whispered.
I nodded and waited for the door to open. When it did, Orrin stood there in a sleeveless shirt, multi-colored boxers, and green socks.
He took a frustrated breath and exhaled forcefully. “What is it now?”
“I just have a few more questions,” I said patiently. “If I can just clear some things up, I can move on with my investigation.”
“I didn’t do nothing, so I’m not a part of your investigation.”
“Well, you definitely lied about meeting your buddy at a gas station,” I said, hoping my hunch was right.
He swallowed, and I knew I was on to something.
“So, if you lied about where you were last night, I have to believe it’s because you’ve got something to hide,” I said slowly. “What are you hiding, Orrin?”
“Yeah, Orrin.” Amy stepped closer to the young man. I’d told her what Gina had said about Orrin physically abusing her, and the look in Amy’s eyes told me it’s what she was thinking about at that exact moment. “What’re you hiding?”
Orrin cast a nervous glance over his shoulder. He stammered for several long seconds, but no intelligible words came out of his mouth.
“Speak up, son,” I said. “If you continue lying, I’ll be left to believe you killed your girlfriend’s boss.”
“I…I didn’t!”
“Right, just like you didn’t accost him in the grocery store.”
“No, I did do that.” Orrin lowered his head in resignation. “I know it was a mistake, and it’s something I’ll never do again. I was just mad about him buying expensive things for Gina. I felt like he was flirting with her. And look, I might’ve been mad about that, but I still would never kill him. I’m no killer. I don’t know how to kill somebody.”
“Then where were you?” I asked.
Orrin licked his dry lips and glanced over his shoulder. He stepped back and pulled the house door shut.
“Okay,” he said, “I’m gonna tell you this, but you gotta promise not to tell Gina.”
“What happens in your relationship is none of my business,” I said. “Unless you put your hands on her again, and then I’ll make it my business.”
Orrin gulped. After glancing over his shoulder again, he leaned in and whispered, “I was seeing somebody.”
“Can you be more specific?” I asked.
“I was sleeping with a girl from work.”
The only woman I remembered seeing at the tire shop was the manager. I asked if he was sleeping with her. He glanced over his shoulder again, and when he turned back to face me, he nodded.
The woman had to be ten or fifteen years older than Orrin. I wondered for a brief second if she was married, but reminded myself it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was Orrin’s whereabouts between the hours Ralph was killed.
“Where did this meeting occur?” I asked.
“At the tire shop,” Orrin said. “She’s recently divorced and she lives by herself with her kids, so I couldn’t go to her house. She’s got the keys to the shop, so that’s where we usually meet.”
“Call her on your phone and hand it to me before she answers.”
Orrin hesitated.
“That’s the only way I’ll believe you didn’t kill Ralph.”
The young man sighed and nodded. He fished a greasy cell phone from his pocket, worked his thumb across the screen briefly, and then handed it to me. When the woman answered, I reintroduced myself to her and asked if she had been with Orrin the night before. She confirmed his story, and even offered to show me the surveillance videos from the tire shop confirming the time they arrived and the time they left.
I handed the phone back to Orrin. I frowned as I considered what a train wreck this relationship was, but I was no relationship therapist, so I thanked him and walked off with Amy.
CHAPTER 20
“Did Mallory respond?” Amy asked as we drove away from Orrin’s place.
“I didn’t hear a beep.” I indicated my phone in the console. “You can check it if you like.”
She did so, and I saw her brow furrow. “Hmm, she left you on read.”
“Let’s call her.” I took my cell phone and placed the call. It rang several times and then went to voicemail. I left a message letting her know I was calling to check on Kim, and then I told her what we knew so far.
Amy glanced at her wristwatch. “That’s strange.”
“What is?” I asked.
“Have you ever known Mallory to go so long without returning a text message?”
I hadn’t thought about it, but she was right. “Maybe she’s busy,” I said. “After all, we did hear all of those sirens earlier.”
“She’s always returned my messages within minutes—even when she was in the middle of a murder investigation.” Amy shook her head. “Something’s up.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know, but I’ve got a bad feeling.”
On a hunch, I decided to drive to the Plant residence. We were only ten minutes away, so I whipped around and headed in that direction. Before we arrived, a white Suburban passed us on the highway running code.
“I don’t know anyone at the sheriff’s office who drives a white Suburban,” Amy commented. “The only agency around here that has those is the state police.”
I nodded, and a sense of foreboding began to fall over me. The Plants’ driveway was still a mile or so up the road, but I could see blue and red lights flashing against the night sky in that direction.
When we reached their mailbox, my fears were confirmed. A marked state police car was blocking the driveway at the road. I pulled up to it, buzzed my window down, and showed him my badge.
“I’m Clint Wolf and this is Amy Cooke,” I said to the uniformed trooper who stood near the cruiser. “We’re working a murder case involving this family.”
“I’m sorry, but I’ve got orders not to let anyone back there but state police detectives,” he said in as official a voice as he could manage.
“Who gave those orders?” I wanted to know.
“Sheriff Buck Turner.”
I settled back in my seat and stared toward the house. What on earth is happening back there? I wondered.
Could it be that Mallory or a deputy had been forced to shoot Kim? In the past when that had happened, the sheriff had called upon me to work the case. Something smelled wrong about this whole deal, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.
Knowing that the trooper was only doing his job, I thanked him and backed my Tahoe away from the entrance to the driveway. Amy had a befuddled expression on her face as we headed back south.
“What in the hell is going on?” she asked. “Do you think Kim shot Mallory?”
Terror tugged at my chest over the thought of Mallory being killed. She and Susan were such close friends that it would devastate my wife. Without saying a word, I grabbed my phone and put in a call to Sheriff Turner. He and I had an excellent working relationship, and I knew he would fill me in on what was going on.
“What is it?” Amy asked when I slowly lowered my cell phone.
“It rang twice and then shut off,” I said. “It sounds as though he blocked the call.”
Amy and I stared at each other for a long moment. When I finally turned my attention back to the highway, I had drifted toward the shoulder. I righted the vehicle and continued south, confused over this latest development.
We were still about five miles from town when my phone rang. I snatched it up and stole a glance at the screen, thinking it might be Mallory or the sheriff, but I saw a number I didn’t recognize. I answered to find out it was Fred Plant.
“Hey, Detective Wolf, I still haven’t heard from Kim,” he said. “Did your deputies go out there yet?”
I didn’t know how much I should tell him, so I erred on the side of caution. “I don’t know what they’ve been able to do yet, but I promise I’ll let you know as soon as I hear something.”
That didn’t satisfy him in the least, but he muttered his thanks and ended the call.
After dropping Amy off at the police department, I headed home and found Susan sitting on the sofa. She wore only a loose-fitting shirt and she was reading a book. She looked up when I entered.
“How was your day?”
I frowned. “It went okay, but it ended strangely.”
I told her about the events that had transpired since I’d texted Mallory, and worry lines instantly formed on her forehead.
“And you still haven’t heard back from Mallory?”
I held up my cell phone. “Nothing.”
Susan scrambled to her feet and hurried to the table, where she snatched up her own phone and began working her thumbs furiously across the screen. She paused for a long moment, staring down. When she looked up, I didn’t feel encouraged.
“She read my message, but she’s not typing a response.”
I scowled. “What in the hell is going on?”
Susan pressed her thumb against the screen and pulled the phone to her ear. She let out a curse. “She blocked my call!”
“If she were busy, she wouldn’t be reading the messages or blocking the calls,” I offered. “Right?”
“Correct. She’d have her phone silenced.” Susan began chewing on her lower lip. Finally, she messed with her phone some more and then put it to her ear. After a brief moment, she said, “Hey, this is Chief Wolf at Mechant Loup. I need to know what’s going on out at Ralph Plant’s residence. Our people are working an active murder investigation and we’re unable to get in contact with Mrs. Plant.”
Susan paused for a brief moment. “Really?”
Another pause.
“Okay, thank you.”
When she ended the call, she looked at me and there was concern in her eyes.
“The dispatcher said the sheriff placed a gag order on all of them,” she said. “They’re not to discuss anything about tonight with anyone.”
Confused, I went through the motions preparing dinner. I ate it beside Susan on the sofa. She hadn’t gone back to reading her book. Instead, we tried to figure out what could possibly be going on at the Plant residence.
I didn’t like that this involved a homicide case I was working and that I was being kept in the dark. This was strange behavior coming from Mallory and the sheriff. Information had always been a two-way street between our departments, and the sheriff had never refused my call.
Something even more confusing was the involvement of the state police. The sheriff was the chief law enforcement officer of the parish, and the only way the state police could become involved in a local matter was by invitation. But why would Sheriff Turner invite them to investigate a case in his parish? His detectives were much more experienced than any ten state police detectives, thanks to the sheer volume of cases they investigated. While the training between the two agencies would be comparable, there was only so much one could learn in a classroom. There was no substitute for field experience, and this was where the state police detectives were lacking. For that reason, when the sheriff thought his agency was conflicted out, he would contact me or a neighboring sheriff’s office for assistance. What did it mean that he hadn’t done that in this case?
