Feeding Gators: Book 1 in the Shiner's Bayou Series

by Gen Anne Griffin

  “Addy, if you see a hunter shoot an illegal deer, and he claims he didn’t do it, who do we believe?”

  “That’s different.”

  “Not legally,” Wally said. “If you or I saw someone dump a dead body out of a truck, and we recognized the person or the truck, what would happen?”

  “We’d arrest them,” Addison said. “At the scene. When we saw them do it. Red-handed with the evidence.”

  Wally glowered and gave the mustache another hard yank. “Don’t even get me started on that.”

  “I just don’t see why we’re arresting David based on Twitchy Eddie’s report.” Addy crossed his arms over his chest. “I wouldn’t even trust Twitchy Eddie’s word when it comes to what would be good on a sandwich. Let alone a crime.”

  “It’s law, Addison. Eddie is playing this strictly by the books,” Wally said. “Eddie claims he witnessed a crime. I have no choice but to believe him the same way I would believe you or any other responsible and trustworthy officer of the law. He has credibility and he’s collaborated his report with basic preliminary investigative work. David’s going to have to come in, and he’s going to have to bring that truck with him. Unless it somehow gets crushed by the junkyard between now and eight o’clock tomorrow morning.”

  “Shit,” Addison muttered.

  Wally shot Addison a meaningful look before continuing. “I want you to give David very specific instructions on how to handle this, understand me?”

  Addison nodded, not sure where this was going.

  “Tell him that when he comes in tomorrow he needs to demand a lawyer the minute Eddie opens his mouth to interrogate him.”

  “A lawyer?” Addison’s jaw dropped. Lawyers in Shiner’s Bayou were unheard of. It was so unusual for someone at the Coastal County Jail to request a lawyer; Keisha Blackmon had to drive over from Baker County on the exceptionally rare occasion a lawyer was needed.

  Then again, this was the first truly unsolved murder in Coastal County, population 1,274, in nearly 10 years. Most Coastal County murderers were caught at the scene of the crime, still holding the murder weapon.

  “A lawyer. Tell him not to open his damn mouth at all except to demand his lawyer.”

  “But he’s innocent. Why would he need a lawyer?” Addison tried to forget the way David had stared at him when he’d told him he was being investigated for murder. It hadn’t been the most innocent expression he’d ever seen on his best friend’s face. He’d looked surprised, but not nearly as surprised as he should have. Gracie was his alibi for the time of the body dump. Because David and Gracie had suddenly developed a wild attraction to one another after years of completely platonic friendship.

  A message from the State University Police was sitting on his desk.

  Addison was getting a bad feeling about all of this. He tried not to let it show as he forced his attention back to Uncle Wally.

  “Because the Coastal County Sheriff Department is not his friend any more. It’s no one’s friend.” Wally held his hands up in the air, frustration evident on his almost sixty-year-old face. “I’ve been the Sheriff here for 34 years and I’ve always run things based more on my own judgment than the book of the law. Despite being one of the smallest Sheriff’s Departments in the state, we have one of the lowest crime rates. I try to be preventative and realistic. You know that.”

  Addison nodded, recalling the occasional poachers he let slide because he knew the meat was going to feed their families for the next month, not hang as a trophy on the wall.

  “I’ve always thought my approach worked for us, for Shiner’s Bayou and Coastal County as a whole, but Eddie Von Hussant doesn’t.”

  “Who gives a shit about Eddie Von Hussant?” Addison demanded angrily.

  “The law,” Wally replied. “Legally, David should have been arrested tonight. Eddie had that warrant in his pocket; the ink probably wasn’t even dry on it yet. Instead, I’m going to claim total ignorance because Eddie didn’t inform me about the warrant, and we’re going to round David up in the morning.”

  “A lawyer?” Addison repeated.

  Wally nodded. “Even a lousy lawyer will be able to throw Eddie’s case against David right out the window. The search warrant on his truck will probably be declared null-and-void, and anything they get off the truck will be thrown out along with it.”

  “He’s not going to want to sit here all day waiting on a lawyer.” Addison sighed, already imagining the fit David was going to pitch over this mess.

  “Tell him too bad,” Wally said. He turned to Addy and gave him a serious look. “Tell him it’s our best chance of getting rid of Eddie. Make sure he understands that.”

  Addison blinked at him. “How will David getting a lawyer help us get rid of Eddie?”

  “Because I can claim Eddie botched our murder investigation by going off on wild tangents without proper evidence,” Wally yanked the mustache hard enough to make his own eyes water. “If the evidence in the truck gets thrown out by the lawyer, it gives me more proof.”

  “There’s no murder evidence in David’s truck.” Addison said, even though the more he thought about it the less certain he was of what he’d just said.

  “Probably not, but there’s bound to be blood. He’s been hunting with that thing for years.”

  “Most of it’s probably mine. I cut myself working on my truck last year and bled like a damned stuck pig all the way to the hospital.” Addison held up his forearm to display a three inch scar. “He’s not going to like this.”

  “It doesn’t matter what he likes. It’s what has to be done. Oh, and tell him not to talk to you or Alex while he’s here. Eddie will have y’all subpoenaed to testify in court faster than you can blink.”

  “This shit sucks,” Addison said gloomily.

  “You’ve always taken the way things were run around here for granted. Now you see what it could be, and what it would be, if we didn’t have that open trust in one another.” Wally tugged on his mustache, pulling loose several hairs.

  “I don’t like it,” Addison said.

  “Me neither. If I have to hire Eddie Von Hussant on as my deputy, you can bet your ass I’m going to retire come the next election.” Wally crossed his arms over his chest and nodded self-righteously. “I’m too old to deal with this crap. I’m going home and going to bed.” Wally stood up from his desk chair.

  “Uh, Uncle Wally, there’s one more thing I need to ask you.” Addison said. He was holding Eddie’s report in one hand.

  “What?”

  “How are we supposed to get David’s truck to Baker County when David has the only wrecker in town?”

  “Oh Christ.” Wally groaned and leaned his head against the door-frame. “Tell Eddie that’s his problem.”

  Addison nodded. He had a few things he was planning on telling Eddie. None of them nice.

  *

  “I’m being arrested?” David stared at Addison in disbelief.

  “Not by choice.” Addison held up his hands. “Eddie went behind Uncle Wally’s back and got a search warrant while he was on the lake fishing.”

  “I don’t believe this bullshit.” David felt like hitting something, so he spun around and slammed his fist into the side of his Toyota, directly next to the dent Cal had punched into it Friday night. “You’re telling me that goddamned little twerp is going to be wandering all over my property tomorrow searching for evidence of. Of what exactly?”

  David racked his brain trying to think of any possible evidence he might have missed during the cleanup. The car was long gone, buried deep in the muck at Cal’s Granddaddy’s hunting lease. David had burned frat boy’s wallet, cellphone and other personal effects in the burn barrel. When the fire had reduced the mess to ash, David had emptied the burn barrel into the creek. The body had been reduced to gator bait.

  Nothing about this situation made sense. The frat boy’s body should have been in a hundred different catfish and alligator bellies by now. How the hell had Twitchy Eddie managed to
get a hold of the entire corpse when David had disposed of it deep in the heart of the bayou? He hadn’t seen any other boats. Hell, he’d barely even been able to see what had been three feet in front of his face. There was no way to get to the old still without a boat.

  Eddie had to be pulling this shit out of his ass.

  Except they had a body. Or at least part of one.

  Fuck.

  Addison cringed at the fist-sized dent that David had just put in the truck’s bed. “He’s not searching your property. Just your truck,” Addison explained to David.

  David’s mind was going a mile a minute, but he stopped then.

  “My truck?” he blinked at Addison, confused. His truck had nothing to do with anything. The only two vehicles the body had been in were the BMW, which he’d already disposed of and the damned boat he’d sunk in the creek.

  “Yeah. Eddie swears you used your truck to transport the body. It was the only thing he could actually get a warrant for because he was able to rule out every other 1980’s model Toyota in the county. Buy a newer truck when you get the chance, okay? Get an F150 or something else, really, really common.”

  “My truck.” David repeated and shook his head, completely furious. “You mean to tell me that y’all are going to come on to my property, arrest me, and take my fucking truck because some obnoxious little dweeb has a grudge against me?”

  “Uncle Wally said to demand a lawyer the minute you get to the office in the morning.” Addison looked nervous and edgy, which only fueled David’s fury.

  “Why the hell should I have to do that?” David crossed his arms over his chest. Addison needed to leave. Now.

  “Look, David, this isn’t anyone’s idea of fun.” Addison made placating gestures.

  “This is total bullshit. We’re supposed to be living in a free country, but y’all are going to arrest me because of something Twitchy Eddie said? ” David snapped. “Y’all wouldn’t even trust Twitchy Eddie to wash your socks, but his word is good enough that my best friend is willing to put me in jail?”

  “It’s not like that.” Addison protested. David ignored him.

  “No, it’s fucking worse than that. The idiot fell off my porch and knocked himself unconscious. Don’t you think I would have taken advantage of that if I were really the murderer y’all think I am?”

  “I do not think you’re a murderer,” Addison snapped. “I think this is bullshit every bit as much as you do, but we’re going to get it taken care of. Come down to the department tomorrow and demand your damned lawyer the minute Eddie walks into the interrogation room and-,”

  “What interrogation room?” David threw up his hands. “Y’all don’t have a fucking interrogation room.”

  “Oh Christ, will you just listen for a minute?” Addison glared at him. David was vaguely pleased to see his cheeks were starting to flush with anger of his own.

  “Come down to the station in the morning and bring the truck,” Addison said. “Scream for your lawyer the minute Eddie looks in your direction, and I’ll have Alex call Gracie and get your official alibi.”

  “Keep Gracie out of this,” David snapped.

  “What?” Addison stared at him.

  “Keep Gracie the hell out of this. Don’t call her.”

  “David it’s the easiest way to prove that you were where you said you were this weekend.” Addison started to try to explain, but David shook his head vigorously. He could take care of himself, but he wasn’t sure he could take care of the both of them.

  Gracie wasn’t a good liar, and David didn’t see the point in both of them spending the next twenty-five years in the state prison.

  “Keep her out of this,” David repeated. “Promise me you won’t call her.”

  Addison stared at David for a moment. They locked eyes, Addison looked away first.

  “Is there something going on that I need to know about?” Addison asked finally, sounding resigned.

  David considered telling him everything, but the reality of the situation made it too dangerous. Addison would flip out. He’d likely go against the Sheriff, and next thing David knew, he’d be chopping up Twitchy Eddie’s body and disposing of it right along with Gracie’s little boyfriend’s.

  “Get the hell off my property,” David said to him flatly.

  “What?” Addison gaped at him.

  “Get off my property. This is private land and you don’t have a warrant. Get lost, Addison.”

  Addison looked stunned as David made a shooing gesture in his direction. He stood next to his gray Fish and Game Department truck waiting for David to change his mind, but David just glared at him.

  Finally Addison held up his hands in a sign of surrender, got into the gray truck, and took off out of the driveway slinging gravel and rocks.

  “I’m doing this for your own damn good,” David muttered as the Ford slid sideways onto the blacktop, tires squealing with anger. “That, and I’ve got to make sure anything that could possibly tie me to that body is long gone before morning.”

  *

  Cal was a few blocks away from Walker Hardware when Addison ran his state-issue Ford right up onto the tailgate of the Chevy and turned on the lights and sirens.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Cal muttered with a small laugh as he eased the Chevy into the First Baptist Church’s parking lot and rolled down the window. Instead of pulling in behind him, Addison circled his truck and pulled around so that the two pick-ups were sitting driver’s window to driver’s window.

  “Lose your phone again?” Cal asked as Addy rolled down his own window. Addison had dark circles under his eyes and his uniform shirt was wrinkled beyond repair.

  “Never have found it since the last time,” Addison admitted with a shrug of his shoulders. “I need a favor.”

  “Figures.” Cal felt better than he had in months. For the first time in years the weight of Walker Hardware wasn’t crushing down on his shoulders. He’d talked it over with his Dad and they had decided that he was going to keep working at the store part-time while he took his college classes. When he graduated he’d be free to do whatever he wanted. It was his life and his life alone. “I need that diamond back,” he told him.

  “That’s nice,” Addison stared at him through bleary eyes and then suddenly seemed to focus on his words. “Wait. No.”

  “No?” Cal repeated, more surprised than irritated.

  “Yeah. No,” Addison shook his head and leaned heavily against the door frame of his truck. “We don’t have time for that shit right now.”

  “I’m returning it to the jewelry store,” Cal explained. “I’m going to use the money to get some new tires. I’m thinking either a set of Mud Dawgs or Grapplers.”

  “Glad you’ve come to your senses. We don’t have time for that either.” Addison didn’t even smile. Cal’s heart sank in his chest, and he felt his good mood evaporating into the swampy morning air surrounding them. “But go with the Grapplers,” Addison finished, unable to resist the lure of new tires completely. “Buy 38’s this time. Not 35’s.”

  “What’s wrong?” Cal asked. “Jo Beth and I are over, and you’re not even gloating.”

  “I’ll gloat later,” Addison promised, still clearly distracted. “I need you to go to State University. Now. Find out what the hell David and my sister have gotten themselves in to.”

  “Each other’s pants. From what I could tell this weekend,” Cal said. He instantly felt bitter. Losing Gracie burned him like rubbing alcohol poured into an open wound.

  “No.” Addison was lost in his thoughts. “David lied to us.”

  “Yeah. He did.” Cal felt an all too familiar anger bubbling in his own chest. “He tried to tell me all sorts of bullshit about how his relationship with her wasn’t what I thought.”

  Addison’s head snapped up abruptly. “When did he tell you that?” Addison demanded, suddenly giving Cal his full attention.

  “Friday night. Saturday morning too, now that I think about it.”

>   “Shit,” Addy rubbed his stubbly chin. He clearly hadn’t shaved in a couple of days. “Dude, you’re going to have to sort this mess out on your own. I can’t do it. Not when I have Twitchy Eddie on my heels every second of the day.”

  “What mess? Cal asked. “And I’m not going to State. Gracie doesn’t want me. She doesn’t need me. I’m not going up there like some pathetic, lovesick kicked puppy.”

  “I’m not asking you to go up there and profess your undying love for her,” Addison snapped in a rare show of temper. “David’s sitting in the goddamned Sheriff’s Office facing murder charges. The State University police called me yesterday to verify my sister’s whereabouts this weekend. Those two are hiding something, and I don’t think it’s their sex life. I think it’s worse.”

  “Do what?” Cal stared at Addison uncomprehendingly.

  “David’s been arrested,” Addison clarified.

  “How?” Cal was blindsided. “For what?”

  “Eddie’s trying to get him for murder,” Addison said, leaning heavily against the door of the truck. “He swears up and down that David was the one who stabbed that homeless guy and tossed him into Johnson’s back pasture last Saturday night. Eddie’s trying to say it was some kind of hate crime.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Cal shook his head. “Eddie’s just got a grudge against David. There’s no way he would have killed some guy and then dumped the body in plain sight of Twitchy Eddie.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought too.” Addy frowned, clearly worried. “Until he threw me off his property when I went to talk to him about it last night.”

  “He did what?” Cal stared at him uncomprehendingly.

  “Told me to get the fuck off his land.” Addison pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and lit one. “He wouldn’t even speak to me when he came into the damn station this morning. He just walked right by me a plopped himself down in Uncle Wally’s office to wait for his interrogation.”

  “Crap,” Cal scowled. “You really think he killed that guy?”

  “Honestly? No.” Addison shook his head. “But nothing either one of them has told us since Friday has made any sense, either. Think about it.”