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

by Sutter, C M

“Okay. I just want to stay out of your way when you get ready to shoot.” Mark’s answer told Robby which shoulder to hit. He would have to disable both of them quickly before Billy had a chance to pick up Mark’s rifle and shoot back.

  They were closing in on the nesting ground. Robby wasn’t sure that any of the pigs had come back yet after scaring them away earlier.

  “We’re getting close, so keep your eyes peeled.” He pointed in the direction of the bayou. “They’ve created a trail between here and the water’s edge. You might want to give it a look while I take a piss.”

  “Yeah, sure. Good idea.”

  Robby headed to the spot where he’d left the bag. He looked back and saw the men walking the trail. He opened the bag, pulled out the 9mm Glock he’d stolen last year, and quietly racked a round into the chamber. When the moment was right, he would have to take good aim since he wasn’t quite ready for the men to die. He wanted to enjoy seeing what the pigs would do to them once the men were tied to trees and bleeding in the nesting area of a half dozen wild boars.

  He needed to be within thirty feet of Mark to get an accurate shoulder shot, especially in the thick tree cover. Missing Mark’s head or lungs gave Robby only an eight-inch circumference to work with. He had to take an accurate and steady shot.

  He called out to let them know he was coming. “See anything yet?” When he finally caught sight of them, he noticed that Billy was in the back as they walked single file. That wouldn’t work.

  “Mark, since you have the gun, head right a bit. You’ll have to scare them out of that thick undergrowth. Billy, stay on the trail so I can see you.”

  “Yep, got it.”

  The setup was working to perfection. The men parted ways, a good six feet of separation between them. Robby lifted the Glock, put eyes on Mark’s shoulder, and squeezed the trigger. The ear-piercing crack echoed loudly, and they were soon surrounded by the sounds of animals running frantically through the woods.

  Mark let out a grunt then a yell as he dropped his rifle. Billy spun to see the barrel of Robby’s Glock pointed at his own kneecap.

  “What the hell, dude! What in God’s name are you doing?”

  “It’s my own pig-versus-man experiment.” Robby pulled the trigger and dropped Billy to the ground, destroying his knee, and then immediately walked over to Mark and grabbed the rifle. “I’ll take this weight off your shoulders, literally.” In a flash, Robby clubbed Mark in the head with the stock of the rifle, then he went directly to Billy and did the same thing. He rubbed his hands together. “Now the fun is about to begin.”

  After grabbing Mark by the ankles, Robby dragged him to the path then another hundred feet to the tree where he would be tied. Since Mark had two good legs and could run when he woke up, it was imperative to secure him first. Billy wouldn’t be able to stand with a shattered kneecap, so he wasn’t going anywhere.

  Robby took the goody bag to the tree, pulled out the rope, and began tying it around Mark’s hands. He slipped the ends of the rope through the nails on either side of the tree and pulled them tight as he lifted Mark to a standing position, then he secured the rope ends to each other. He covered the knotted ropes around Mark’s wrists with multiple layers of duct tape just to be on the safe side, then he did the same to the rope behind the tree. When that was complete, he knotted ropes around Mark’s ankles and repeated the process. The final step was to cover Mark’s mouth with a length of duct tape wrapped around his head so he couldn’t rub it off against his shoulder, even though nobody in a five-mile radius would hear his cries for help.

  With Mark out of the way, Robby checked the time, 10:17, and he was right on schedule. Billy was next, and from his moaning, it appeared that he was waking up. Robby would have to hurry or clock him in the head again if he regained consciousness.

  Robby grabbed Billy by the ankles and yanked him. He heard bone scraping against bone and felt the left leg give way. It probably wasn’t held together by much more than a few tendons. Robby chuckled as he imagined being forced to stand on a broken leg. He was sure the shredded muscle and bone mixed with blood would go a long way with the pigs, plus a torn-up leg was far easier to reach and chew on than a shoulder that had been shot.

  As Robby tied the ropes to Billy’s wrists and hoisted him against the tree, Billy’s screams and thrashing told Robby his guest was wide-awake.

  “Stop fighting me! The more you fight, the more it’s going to hurt.”

  “You son of a bitch! What kind of lunatic are you? I have a wife and kids at home!”

  “Who are probably better off without you. You so much as admitted that having a wife was a pain in the ass. I bet she’ll be thrilled that you’re gone, but if she isn’t, I’ll be more than happy to ease her pain.”

  Billy spat in Robby’s face, an act that was met with a punch to the temple. Billy passed out again.

  “Good, now maybe I can get something accomplished.”

  With a few more twists of the rope and a half dozen more knots, he guaranteed that Billy Bennett wasn’t going anywhere. Robby wiped the blood and dirt on his pants, checked his work once more, then emptied both men’s pockets. The phones would be shut down and tossed in the bayou, and the wallets would be relieved of their cash. Everything else except the truck keys would be burned in the firepit. Robby had to figure out what to do with that truck. A paint job and a swap with his own plates would suffice until he could change them up again with plates from a different parish.

  But first, he had to get cleaned up and head to Houma, where the FBI team was expecting him.

  He picked up his bag and Mark’s rifle, said goodbye to the head-bobbing men, and made his way through the brush to the shack. As he walked, he reminded himself to call the state office later and suspend the hunting on his property for a few weeks, and he still had to compile that list of names for the FBI.

  Chapter 31

  “I don’t know if Bob has anything to offer us, Jade. I think he’s just a blowhard who’s looking to make a few bucks on the side.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t have an opinion one way or the other yet. We’ve only given him a half day to work with us, and he’s compiling that list of sketchy characters who law enforcement wouldn’t necessarily know, the ones who live off the grid.”

  Renz rubbed his forehead. “There is that. We’ll take a look at that list, see if they have a record, and interview the people who are still in the area. Guess we’ll have to see what pops.”

  I frowned. “What’s going to pop if law enforcement doesn’t know they exist? That would probably go for the wackadoodle black magic people too. Kind of like the darkest dark web. If you don’t know about it, you wouldn’t have a clue to the extremely disturbing things that go on behind that black curtain of crime.”

  “I suppose you’re right.”

  I nodded. “Let’s give him a few days. We’re committed to being here a week, so let’s make the best use of that time.”

  “And the best use of it is with Bob Hebert?”

  I shrugged. “Just saying.” I checked the time, and Bob was due to show up any minute. I poured myself a fresh cup of coffee just as Conway gave the half-opened door a knock. Renz waved him in.

  “I have news.”

  Renz pointed at an available chair. “Let’s hear it.”

  “Forensics got back to me. A match came in for a young lady who was identified by the dental records supplied by her mom. She’d been missing for three months. Her bones were found at the second dump site.”

  “And yesterday’s dump site was number three?”

  “Of the locations we know of, yes. Also, Carla Moline’s DNA doesn’t match any of the bones found so far.”

  “Wow. That’s not what I was expecting to hear,” I said. “So what the hell happened to her?”

  Conway shook his head. “No clue. Maybe that guy who was with her at Bubba Mike’s actually did abduct her but didn’t kill her. He could be holding her somewhere.”

  “I called the ri
deshare companies in the area and nobody made a pickup at Bubba Mike’s on Sunday night after eleven o’clock,” I said.

  “Damn. That just added another twist to this case.”

  Renz huffed and gave Conway a glance. “That’s if the cases are even related.”

  Conway groaned. “Any leads coming in yet?”

  “Nope, but we are working with Bob Hebert.”

  “Not familiar with the name.”

  “He’s living in Woodlawn with extended family for now. Guess he’s a good tracker and hunter and may know of a few people who live on the sketchier side of the tracks.”

  Conway rolled his eyes. “And God knows there’s plenty of those folks who have moved to this area from the big cities.”

  Seconds later, Bob walked in. Renz introduced him to the sheriff, they exchanged a handshake, then Conway left.

  “Sorry I’m a few minutes late. Had to gas up on my way into town.” He reached into his pockets, pulled out two Snickers bars, and handed them to me.

  I let out a surprised laugh. “What the hell is this?” If I was right, it looked like a bright-red blush covered Bob’s cheeks.

  “Nothing, really. Just noticed the wrappers in your trash can yesterday were all from Snickers bars. Like I said, I’m a good tracker, and I notice everything, whether it’s out in the wild or in a trash can.”

  I joked with him. “Damn it, Bob, I think you’re in the wrong profession. Maybe you should think about becoming a cop.”

  He swatted the air and chuckled. “That’s probably the nicest compliment I’ve ever gotten, Jade.”

  I had my doubts, but it was sweet of him to say.

  Bob took a seat across from me, the same chair he sat in yesterday. “So, have you had any success yet?”

  Renz spoke up. “The sheriff just gave us some unexpected news.”

  “Good news, I hope.” Bob looked from me to Renz and waited.

  “A girl was reported missing a few days back by her sister. We’d assumed—”

  “That some of those bones were hers?”

  “Yes, but Forensics said they weren’t. They compared her DNA to the two sets of bones at yesterday’s site and the bones from an older site—no match.”

  “Have you had luck identifying any of the victims?”

  “A match did come in overnight to a young lady who went missing three months back. Human bones were found last week at a different dump site. The ID was made through dental records that the mother supplied after reporting her daughter missing. The young lady, who was a grocery store cashier named Casey Witherspoon, had a false tooth in the top front, so matching that up was easy.”

  “That means the cops found a skull?”

  “Yep, and as gruesome as that sounds, it does help to have that irrefutable evidence.”

  “Well, that’s gotta be good and bad news for her family.”

  I nodded. “Some families take that kind of news differently than others. The poor girl’s parents nearly passed out from grief, but other times, family members are very stoic.”

  “Maybe they’re just numb,” Bob said.

  Renz actually agreed with him for the first time since he’d met Bob. “Many families of crime victims are either frozen with grief or in shock. Their blank expression is often mistaken for indifference, but usually, that’s the farthest thing from the truth.”

  “Yet a sad situation all around,” Bob said.

  Renz got back to business. “Did you bring along that list of names?”

  “I did, and for clarification’s sake, they aren’t friends of mine.” He chuckled. “They’re just people I know of through the grapevine, and as far as the deeds they’ve committed, well, that’s watercooler gossip. Either way, the men I’ve written down are the kind you don’t want to be on the wrong side of, if you know what I mean. Half of them own swampland that’s gone back generations, and the No Trespassing signs posted every hundred feet are meant to warn outsiders that if you step foot on their property uninvited, you may never walk out alive.”

  I let out a nervous laugh. “They really aren’t that dangerous, are they?” Bob gave me a somber stare, and I quickly realized he was serious. “Then how the hell are we ever supposed to talk to those people?”

  “You ever see that banjo movie?”

  “Deliverance?”

  “Yep, that’s the one. Go ahead and multiply that tenfold.”

  “I don’t understand why.”

  “And you don’t have to. You aren’t from these parts, and some people aren’t the welcoming type. It’s as simple as that.”

  I was baffled and slapped my hands against the table. “So now what?”

  Bob shrugged. “I guess you could see if any have criminal records first and then decide if you want to go to their properties, but if you do, I’d have some deputies go along.”

  I sighed in despair. “We’re never going to solve this damn crime.”

  “There’s still the bones.”

  I turned to Bob. “What do you mean?”

  “I have to see the actual bones so I can tell you if you’re looking for a hunter or a butcher. The one-dimensional pictures didn’t tell me what I needed to know. Seeing and touching the real bones will help narrow down your search. Or—”

  “Or what?” Renz asked.

  “Or find the worst of the worst offenders who live in the bayous and make up a reason to coax them into town. Getting them out of their own element is the safest and probably the only way to talk to them.”

  Renz stood and paced the room. He jangled the keys in his pocket and stared at the floor. “That isn’t a half-bad idea, but how would we go about getting their attention?”

  Robby’s plan was working to perfection. He already had Jade convinced of his value, and it seemed like Agent DeLeon was slowly getting on board. They had nothing to work with on their own, but with Robby’s help, they would likely solve the crime. He was sure they were thinking that very thing. “There’s a little bar, actually a shed that was converted to a bar, on the far south end of Mechanicville on Llano Drive off Roland Road. It’s called Trap House. That’s where the sketchy locals hang out and could be the easiest way to talk to them outside their own turf.”

  Renz’s forehead wrinkled. “Doesn’t sound too inviting. Just more sketchy people in one place.”

  “Well, that’s true. Then I’d suggest digging into their criminal history while Agent Monroe and I go to the forensic office and take a look at those bones.”

  “Yeah, I don’t think—”

  I interrupted Renz before he finished his sentence since I didn’t need his protection. “It’s fine, Renz, and we’ll get more accomplished if we do several things at once.”

  He frowned. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m positive, and we won’t be gone long.”

  “Okay, if that’s the way you want to do it. Got your phone?”

  I grinned. “Yep, it’s right in my purse.” I reached out to Renz with my open hand. He reluctantly gave me the Explorer keys, and then I cocked my head toward the door. “Come on, Bob. It’s my turn to drive.”

  Chapter 32

  It was twelve forty by the time Bob and I arrived at the forensic and medical examiner’s offices. We were lucky that everyone wasn’t out on lunch breaks. When we entered the building and asked for the medical examiner or a member of the forensic team, the receptionist directed us to the cafeteria.

  We thanked her and followed the hallway until it ended at the cafeteria, where the medical examiner, Louis Morrow, and one member of the forensic duo I’d met the other day, Hal Petrie, were enjoying their bag lunches at a table at the far end of the room. I hadn’t had the privilege of meeting the medical examiner yet, so Hal made the introductions, and I introduced both of them to Bob.

  Louis invited us to join them while they finished their food. Bob offered to grab two coffees from the vending machine while I explained to the men why we were there. When Bob took his seat, he added to the conversation by saying the
knives used by a butcher had a different cut pattern than a knife used by a hunter.

  “Makes sense,” Hal said, “although I never compared the types of knives used between them.”

  “I’d like to see the bones for myself. I’m a longtime hunter and know what kind of knives people in our trade use. Did the nicks and scrapes look the same on the bones from all the dump sites?”

  Hal fielded that question since it was more of his expertise to make those kinds of comparisons. “Yes, under a microscope they did, but they were relatively faint.”

  “Is there a chance I could look at the bones? I’m working with Agent Monroe as a consultant.”

  I gave Hal a head tip. “I’ll vouch for him. I want his expertise as a hunter, and hopefully, if he can identify the type of knife used, we can eliminate either a hunter or a butcher as our likely suspect.”

  “Sure, we can do that. The older bones are in cold storage, though, so that’s Louis’s department in the morgue area.”

  Louis wiped his mouth and tossed his paper napkin into the trash. “I’ll get them ready for you while you work with Hal on the bones found on Monday.”

  Bob turned to me. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

  We followed Hal into the forensic lab, where we had to slip on gloves and lab coats to prevent us from contaminating anything.

  “I have the bones that were discovered on Monday, right over here by the microscope. We’ve already determined by the two skulls found at the site that we have two different sets of remains and not any more. We’ve also determined that they’re both female by the length of the femurs. We’ve compared them to the bones found at the first dump site, which we’ve determined to be from a male since the femur was a good four inches longer.”

  “And so far, only the bones from dump site two have been identified?”

  “That’s correct, Agent Monroe.”

  Bob spoke up. “Can you tell by the remains how any of the victims were killed?”

  “Unfortunately not, Mr. Hebert.”

  Bob nodded.

  “Okay, since the hip bone is relatively smooth and flat, the knife marks, or scrapes, I should say, are more noticeable on that particular bone. I have the hip bone from Jane Doe number one under there now. Go ahead and take a look.”