FBI Agent Jade Monroe: Live or Die 01-Blood in the Bayou

by Sutter, C M

  “You can smell all that?” Jade asked.

  “You bet. That’s what trackers do, as well as look for signs like broken twigs, snagged cloth, shoeprints, anything that doesn’t belong out here in nature. As far as the scents go, the dogs and pigs urinate and leave their mark. People, they just sweat. I’d be able to tell you more if the scene hadn’t been trampled. I imagine there were a half dozen vehicles back here too?”

  “Yeah, there were.”

  “So nobody checked for tire prints?”

  “Not to our knowledge, but Forensics—”

  Robby waved off Renz’s comment. “They’re only looking at the obvious, not the things that are out of place in nature.” Robby knelt, picked up a handful of soil, and sifted it through his fingers. “More bugs and maggots than what would normally be back here. There were bones and pieces of skin or tissue, you said?”

  Jade nodded. “Yes, that’s right.”

  “Did you take pictures, too, or just the forensic guys?”

  “I did, but I’m sure they aren’t nearly as good as the professional-grade pictures they took,” Jade said.

  “Then it would be helpful to see their photos.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.” Jade made the call to the forensic lab and asked if some of the photos could be emailed to her. She hung up seconds later and said she would have the pictures soon. “Let’s head back to the sheriff’s office. We’ll have the pictures by then, and we can view them on my computer.”

  Robby turned and started walking off. “If the forensic team has good equipment in their lab, they should be able to determine what kind of knife was used to remove the meat from the bone.”

  “Meat?” Jade cringed. “That doesn’t sound like we’re talking about human remains—it’s more like something you’d eat.”

  “Okay, then, I’ll call it muscle and tissue, but in the end, it’s all the same. Somebody removed the”—he made air quotes—“muscle and tissue from the bones for a reason, and consumption is the only explanation I can think of.”

  They were back at the sheriff’s office twenty minutes later and took seats around Jade’s computer. She enlarged the photos in the attachment Forensics had sent over, then moved the laptop to sit in front of Robby.

  He scooted in closer to the screen. “Are these images enlarged as much as possible?”

  “Just hit the plus icon. It’ll make them as big as they get.”

  Robby went through the nine photos. “I can’t tell you anything, really, since I’m looking at a one-dimensional photo. The depth and length of the cuts and scrapes would tell you the size of the knife and the thickness of the blade. We’d know if it was a hunting knife or a butcher’s knife.”

  Jade raised a brow. “You can tell the difference?”

  “A hunter would know, but I can’t say with any certainty that a forensic tech could tell the difference. Did the sheriff get back to you about the butchers in the area? I might know if some of them are iffy characters once I see their names.”

  Renz stood. “I’ll go ask.”

  Jade and Robby sat quietly while Renz was gone, then Jade spoke up. “If there are so many waterways in the area that are teeming with alligators, then why wouldn’t the killer just toss the remains in the water and let nature take its course? I mean, why risk being seen dumping the bones back in hunting grounds?”

  Robby scratched his head as if puzzled by the question. “That’s a good question, and I have two possible answers.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “He assumed the wild pigs would eat the evidence and it would never be discovered.”

  “And the other reason?”

  “He lives near the water, where gators are plentiful.”

  “Then that seems like the perfect place to get rid of the remains.”

  Robby shook his head. “Nope, it’s the worst place. You know how signs are posted in zoos, parks, lagoons, and so on about not feeding wild animals?”

  Jade nodded. “Yes, I’ve seen them.”

  “Well, it’s the same concept. Feed a gator all the time and they’ll keep coming around. Pretty soon, they’ll be waiting on your doorstep for food. That’s when the person feeding them becomes the food.”

  “Geez, I never thought of that.”

  Renz returned with several sheets of paper.

  “What did you find out?” Robby asked.

  “Here, take a look. There are three butchers in the parish with police records. They vary from petty theft to battery and finally to serving time. Do you know any of them?”

  Robby scanned each sheet then jabbed the first one. “I’m somewhat familiar with Tommy French, but he’s not the killer.”

  “How do you know?”

  “He’s too much of a lightweight. He wouldn’t have the strength to overtake a ten-year-old kid let alone an adult, even if it was a female. Plus, his wife does most of the butchering work. He’s too squeamish. He puts the cuts in the display cooler, wraps the meat, and rings up the purchase.”

  “So you’re saying his wife does all the heavy lifting?” Renz asked.

  “Yep. That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

  “And you don’t know the other two?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  Renz tapped his pen against the table while staring at Robby. “Okay, I think that’s all we need for today. Why don’t you go ahead and spend the afternoon with your family? You can put together a list for us of locals who you think could be suspicious individuals. You know, people who kind of stay off the grid that law enforcement wouldn’t necessarily know of.”

  “Yep, I know a dozen or so people who fit that description.”

  “Good. Then we’ll review that list tomorrow and see if anything shakes out.”

  Robby stood, slapped his hands together, and said goodbye. He had to make plans for his introduction to Billy and Mark, anyway.

  He was back home just outside Dulac an hour later. Robby had called the elite HCLL and said he wanted to become a member. That night, he would complete the paperwork and attend the new members’ welcome meeting hosted by the staff of the hunting club. Two of those members were Mark LaFleur and Billy Bennett, the men he was most interested in getting to know.

  Chapter 29

  Robby arrived at the hunting club at six forty-five and stepped up to the counter and asked for a membership application. After being handed the sheet on a clipboard, he took a seat along with several other people in the lounge area and filled in the information.

  At seven o’clock, the new attendees moved to the meeting room, where they watched a video showing all the benefits that the club offered. There were biweekly meetings, indoor and outdoor ranges, private training, a shooting store and gift shop, and a bar and restaurant. After the video, Mark LaFleur stepped up to the podium, welcomed the new members, and took questions. By eight o’clock, the room where a meet and greet cocktail party was set to take place had filled with existing members. It was scheduled to end at ten o’clock. By then, Robby was certain he would have Billy Bennett and Mark LaFleur in his back pocket.

  People mingled and introduced themselves. Robby knew Billy’s face only by his picture on the website, and he scanned the room for him while enjoying hors d’oeuvres and wine.

  Ah, there he is. Time to let him know what a lucky guy he is to meet me, and I’ll be repeating my credentials to Mark LaFleur, too, before the night is over.

  Robby approached Billy Bennett and reached out to shake his hand. “Billy Bennett?”

  “Yes, that’s me, and you are?”

  “Robert Williams, a new member of this group. Pleasure to make your acquaintance. I have a question that was never asked during the question and answer session.”

  “Shoot.”

  They both laughed. “Good one.”

  Billy nodded, clearly pleased with himself. “I’ll admit, I use that often. So, what’s your question?”

  “It wasn’t mentioned on the video, so I was just wondering if the club ow
ns any hunting land that’s used exclusively for members.”

  Billy scratched his cheek. “Unfortunately not. Most of our members are city boys who don’t own land of their own and either shoot at the range, enjoy the amenities here at the club, or go out on public land to shoot.”

  “Where I bet a lot of other members go.”

  “Well, that is true. It seems to scare away the wild pigs, so we have to keep going deeper and deeper into bayou country to find land that isn’t so populated.”

  “Maybe I can help out with that—essentially a barter system. If my membership fees are waived, I’ll allow people to hunt on my property.”

  Mark strolled up on the conversation, and Billy made the introductions. “Mark LaFleur, this is Robert Williams, and it sounds like he has an interesting proposition for the club.”

  Mark appeared to be intrigued. “Really? And what’s that?”

  “Let me explain it to you over another glass of wine.”

  The three men found seats at a corner table in the bar.

  “Now, what is it you have to offer, Mr. Williams?”

  “Just call me Rob. Most of my friends do.”

  “Okay, Rob, go ahead.”

  “Well, I own two hundred acres of pristine land that backs up to the bayous around Dulac.”

  Mark grunted. “That’s a half hour away.”

  “Yes, it is, and that’s why it’s still good hunting land. All your good ol’ boys who belong to this club and hunt around Houma have wiped out a lot of the pig population, plus the fact that the space is overpopulated with hunters doesn’t help matters.” Robby lowered his voice to just above a whisper. “Word has it that you two discovered something Monday off Bayou Dularge Road.”

  Billy pulled back. “How in the hell did you hear about that?”

  Robby shrugged. “News travels fast. That alone is going to give hunters pause. You never know what kind of lunatic might be out there with a gun, except he isn’t hunting pigs—he’s hunting people.”

  “We can’t take your proposal to the board until we see your property.”

  “And I wouldn’t expect anything less. When can you fellas come out? We can even get a few hours of hunting in, too, if you’d like. No need to bring the dogs either. I know exactly where the pigs are.”

  Billy looked at Mark. “What do you say? Tomorrow morning works for me.”

  “Yeah, me too. We’ll have you walk us around your property, maybe even take a few shots if we spot some pigs, and then make a decision.”

  “Great. I guarantee you it’ll be a blast.”

  They chuckled at his choice of words.

  Robby grabbed a pen and a piece of paper from the bartender. “Let me give you my address.”

  Chapter 30

  Robby had been up since the crack of dawn. He cursed the fact that he had to drive into town to leave Agent Monroe a message saying he wouldn’t be available until noon. He had far more exciting and necessary things to take care of that morning. Even though he’d given the agents false information about every aspect of his life, the fact that Billy and Mark had told them they should investigate hunters would eventually lead to him. That part of his life was true—he was an expert hunter and tracker. Even though he wasn’t known by many, the people who did know him could eventually lead law enforcement to his doorstep.

  With a travel mug of coffee in hand, Robby climbed into his truck and took Four Point Road to the edge of Dulac.

  Maybe I’ll get a cell phone someday, but that just gives people more opportunity to snoop into my business.

  He stopped at the southernmost gas station and used the pay phone there to make the call to Agent Monroe. After hanging up, he immediately turned around and headed home. He had to set the trap for his guests, who would arrive in less than two hours.

  He sorted through the supplies he needed and dropped everything into a burlap bag. With the bag in hand, he headed out on foot, and fifteen minutes later, he reached the location he’d chosen deep in the shaded underbrush. With multiple nesting areas, it was a hot spot for wild hogs, and as he approached, he made as much noise as possible to scare them away.

  Wild pigs were more active at night but did occasionally come out during the day in search of food. Bringing the men back to the pigs’ nesting ground and suggesting they get off a shot would keep them distracted long enough for Robby to do what he needed to do. It was necessary to keep his lifestyle running smoothly, like it had been before those FBI agents waltzed into town.

  He chose two large trees that were a good ten feet apart and drove nails deep into the trunks. Using the claw hammer, he bent the nails over to act as loops to slip the ropes through. He wasn’t about to risk the men freeing themselves by sliding their arms up and down to create enough friction to break the ropes. The men seemed savvy and likely had a keen knowledge of survival techniques.

  With his supplies well-hidden and the pigs at bay, Robby returned to the shack and walked the immediate area. He didn’t want to be surprised by something that still remained in the burn pit or near the tree that he’d tied his victims to. At the base of that tree, he kicked dirt over Carla’s several-day-old bloodstain on the ground. After pulling his camp chair back to the shack, Robby straightened up the yard and tossed empty beer bottles in the trash can.

  He had to think of a believable story to explain the condition of his living quarters. The night before, Robby had presented himself as someone who could afford the five-thousand-dollar-a-year membership into the elite club but who was willing to trade the expensive fee for “members only” hunting privileges on his virgin property.

  I’ll tell them that this is my hunting shack and I come out here several times a month to enjoy the sport and to have some outdoor peace and quiet. Gotta have that “me” time.

  His blue truck, which had seen better days, would be covered with a tarp. Robby was a great storyteller who could spin a yarn in seconds flat, and he would do so as he showed Billy and Mark around.

  He gave the property one more look, and all was well. He took a seat on a camp chair and watched the driveway. Soon, he expected to hear gravel crunching under tires, and what followed would make his heart pound with excitement.

  Robby tipped his wrist and checked the time—9:02. They would be there any second. When he heard a distant sound, he cocked his ear. It was one he recognized from his own truck making its way down the driveway. He rubbed his hands together with enthusiasm. It was just a matter of time.

  Less than a minute from the first sound he’d heard, Robby saw the flash of red between the tree cover—a truck was coming his way. He stood and moved the chair from the driveway then waved at the slowing truck. He gave them a thumbs-up, and the driver stopped. Billy was behind the wheel.

  That’s a nice truck, and I could use a replacement.

  The men opened the doors and stepped down off the running boards.

  “Damn, this place is really off the beaten path. Surprised my GPS even recognized how to get here.” Billy extended his hand and shook Robby’s.

  Robby reminded them, “The only way to have untouched hunting ground is to be off the beaten path, plus I like the privacy.”

  Mark looked from left to right. “You don’t live here, do you?”

  “Nope. It’s my man’s playground, nothing more. Like to get away from the old lady now and then, if you know what I mean.”

  Billy huffed. “I definitely know what you mean. Damn women sometimes. The wife and I already had a fight this morning before I left.”

  Robby shook his head. It would be a problem if Billy had told his wife where he was going. “She probably thinks you stormed off because of the fight.”

  “Nah, I told her that I had a business opportunity to check out this morning, but she wanted me to mow the lawn.” He pointed at Mark. “He’s the smart one and has remained single all these years.”

  Robby grinned then continued on. “Well, as you noticed, I have a long driveway, so I can clear the edges a bit to
make room for angled parking.”

  “How many acres did you say you have back here?” Mark asked.

  “Two hundred give or take.”

  The guys could have no idea that Robby already leased his land for hunting purposes to make a little extra money. Between that and the cash he took from his victims, he had enough to get by.

  “And it’s full of wild boar?”

  “Yep, teeming with them, and plenty more than I’ll ever need. Why don’t you grab your rifles, and we’ll head out. I’ll show you one of their current nesting spots.”

  “I didn’t bring mine,” Billy said. “My freezer is already filled with game, plus, the wife would’ve had a fit if she’d seen me walk out with my rifle. I did that a couple of days ago, and she nearly strangled me since I’ve been promising to cut the grass for two weeks now. What the hell? It’s only a foot tall.”

  They had a good laugh, then Robby addressed Mark. “Okay, then, how about you?”

  “Yep, brought my thirty-thirty along.”

  “Good deal, so let’s head into the woods. I have somewhere to be in a few hours.”

  Robby led the way single file through the brush just fifty feet from the water’s edge.

  Mark pointed. “Don’t the gators ever get the pigs?”

  “Sure they do when the hogs go down to drink. There’s plenty of both in this area, so you always have to be on guard and carry a gun.”

  Billy looked at Robby. “Then where’s yours?”

  “I didn’t bring it since Mark has one. That way, I don’t jump the gun and fire.” He chuckled at his play on words. “Anyway, I want you to take the shot if there’s an opportunity.”

  “Hell yeah, I’ll take the shot,” Mark said.

  The morning couldn’t get much better. Only one man had a gun, and that made Robby’s job a lot easier. He would have to take careful aim and hit Mark in the shoulder so he wouldn’t be able to fire the rifle.

  “You left- or right-handed, Mark?” he asked as they followed him into the woods.

  “Right-handed.”