Rumble on the Bayou

by Jana DeLeon

  "Dorie," her dad began, "let me explain."

  She took a couple of steps into the living room and glared at them, the heat running up her face and neck, her hands clenched at her sides. "You actually have the nerve to think you could explain being involved with the man who is trying to kill me? You make me sick."

  "We're not involved. I swear to you," Buster pleaded. "It's all in the past. I was telling your dad the same thing. I don't know why Roland is back in town, but he's not doing business with me. I swear on my children and grandchildren."

  Dorie gave Buster a hard look. He looked upset and more than a little scared, but he sounded sincere. She turned to her dad, who was still red in the face from his argument with Buster. "You want to tell me what the hell is going on here? Why do you know Roland at all? And what is in the past that has resurfaced in the town you are supposed to protect?"

  Her dad pointed to a chair. "You might want to have a seat. We'll tell you everything, and then you can do what you need to."

  She hesitated for a second, not wanting to sit down. Standing above her dad made her feel more in control, and right now, control seemed more important than ever. Sitting on his level put her back at daughter status.

  "Please" her dad said softly.

  She blew out a breath and sat on the edge of the chair. "Go ahead," she managed to choke out.

  Her dad looked at Buster, who nodded and took a seat on the couch. "It all started right before you were born," her dad began. "'The big international boats moving through the shrimp channel changed the tidal flow in a lot of the marshes. White shrimp disappeared and only small browns remained. At the same time, the economy took a bit of a dive everywhere. Restaurants weren't buying as much shrimp and started serving cheaper fish and chicken."

  Dorie nodded. She knew how Buster had kept the shrimp house open and saved Gator Bait. It was the kind of thing small-town heroes were made of.

  "Buster ran into big problems over at the shrimp house," her dad continued. "He was getting in a second-tier product and the orders were only ten percent of what they used to be. He held the place open for almost four months on his own savings, still buying whatever the locals had to sell at the old market price, even though he ended up dumping most of it back in the bayou. But Buster was almost out of money and without the shrimp house, Gator Bait would have become extinct."

  “That's when Roland first approached me." Buster picked up the story. “He claimed he came from a family of commercial shrimpers in New Orleans and was looking to make an investment in a shrimp house."

  "And you believed him?" Dorie asked, shaking her head at such shortsightedness. "You said yourself the business was going under. Why in the world would you think someone would want to put their money in only to lose it?"

  A flush crept up Buster's neck and he looked down at the floor. "I was stupid. I admit it, but I was so desperate I never even stopped to think straight. Maybe if your dad had been here things would have been different, but he was still in Vietnam and I was trying to hold together the town so he had a home to come back to."

  "So you took the money," Dorie said.

  Buster nodded, obviously miserable. "Yeah. Worst mistake of my life. By the time I found out about the drugs, he was done with his deal."

  "That's besides the point and you know it," Dorie said. "Why didn't you go to the police with what you knew?"

  "Because he couldn't," Sheriff Berenger replied. "Roland had parked a ton of money in the shrimp house operating account to ensure Buster's silence. By the time I got back from 'Nam and Buster told me what was going on, Roland was long gone." Sheriff Berenger gave Dorie a pleading look. "What was I supposed to do-let my best friend go to jail for being foolish? The real culprit had already gotten away. There was no point in taking Buster down."

  Dorie blew out a breath of disbelief, trying to reconcile the two men she'd loved and trusted her entire life with the story they'd told her. Finally, she narrowed her eyes at Buster. "Is that why your traps are always broken, Buster? Are those chutes a convenient way to drop drugs into the bayou for pickup?"

  Buster held up his hands and rapidly shook his head. "I swear, Dorie, I ain't involved with Roland. I never would have been if I'd known what he was doing. Besides, I'm not that stupid. Maybe years ago you could make some quick money and get out. Nowadays, the only way out is dead."

  "If you're so innocent, Buster, then why are you here talking to Dad?"

  Buster waved one hand at Sheriff Berenger. "I came here this morning because it's apparent that Roland is back and out of control. I wanted to make sure your dad knew I wasn't the one involved."

  Let's just assume for a moment that I believe you," Dorie said."Then who is Roland working with now?"

  Buster gave her a look of sheer misery. "I don't know. I haven't even seen Roland, I swear. I'm sorry. I just don't know."

  She rose from the chair and looked down at her dad, trying to hold back the tears of anger, frustration and disappointment that threatened to spill over at any moment. "Do you know what kind of position you've put me in? Do you have any idea at all? This isn't something that's going to go away. Richard isn't leaving here until Roland is caught or dead. This is a federal case. Do you really think anyone else will believe this story of yours?"

  Her dad lowered his head, apparently unable to face her. "I'm sorry, Dorie. Not reporting Roland was a mistake. I know that now, but there's nothing I can do to change the past." He finally raised his head and looked at her. "But I need for you to leave town until this is over. I can't afford to lose you."

  "You should have thought about that before you helped cover for a drug smuggler," she snapped, un willing to even consider the excuses her dad had given her for his lack of legal action regarding something so ugly.

  "No crime is without cost, even if it doesn't come at the hands of the law." She pointed a finger at him. "You taught me that, remember? Maybe your bill has come due. If anything happens to me, you can live with that."

  She spun around and left the apartment without even a backward glance, unsure of anything in her life anymore.

  As soon as he arrived back at the motel, Richard called the agency, anxious for the DNA results. It took a few minutes on hold before his buddy Brian picked up the phone. "Lab."

  "Brian, it's Richard. You got the results?"

  "Richard, I'm glad you called."

  He heard papers rustling in the background, then his friend spoke again. "We got the results several hours ago, but I had them run the tests again."

  Richard crinkled his brow. Surely he hadn't been wrong about this. It had to be Roland at Buster's camp. "Why did you rerun? You tested against the finger, right? Wasn't there a match?"

  "Yes. The hair and the finger were a perfect match. Then I sent it through the main database under orders from your boss to double- and triple-check everything. He doesn't want any slipups this time. But there's no doubt remaining. It's definitely Shawn Roland."

  Richard let out a breath. "Then what was the problem?"

  "There was another match. A partial, but suspicious enough for me to ask for the rerun."

  Richard's breath caught in surprise. "That's not possible. Roland doesn't have any kin that we're aware of, and even if he did, they probably wouldn't be in our databases."

  He heard Brian cough, a sure sign of nerves. "'There's no mistake. We tested a second strand of hair with the same results as the first. That match is Dorie Berenger." They share the same blood type too-AB negative, not exactly common. I'd bet my job they're related."

  Richard's head begin to spin. It wasn't possible, yet Brian was the absolute best at his job. But how could this be? "Why would we even have DNA or blood-typing, for that matter, for Dorie Berenger?" he asked, sure that despite the test, his friend was mistaken. "Can it be an error on the admin side?"

  "No. I checked that first thing. Apparently, about ten years or so ago, the agency was heavily recruiting Dorie out of college. She had already passed the medical a
nd physical testing. That's why she's on file. You know the agency never throws anything away."

  "Recruiting Dorie? What college?" Now in total disbelief, Richard stared out the window and across the bayou. "Why in the world would the agency have tried to recruit Dorie? How could they even know of her existence?"

  "I know," Brian said, sounding animated for the first time. "I thought it was strange, too, so I looked into it. Apparently, your hick deputy is some sort of genius. She went to Rutgers on scholarship at sixteen. Finished her bachelor's in criminal justice in two years and her master's in a year. She was almost done with her Ph.D. when she chucked everything and left town."

  Her dad. Richard knew immediately why Dorie had dropped out. She'd come back to Gator Bait to take care of her dad. Jesus H. Christ! Could this case get any more complicated? He sank onto the bed, confusion and fear coursing through him.

  "Thanks, Brian," he managed to get out and threw his phone on the bed. What the hell was going on here? Was he wrong about Dorie and her father? Had they been in cahoots with Roland all along? Stretching his mind, he searched for any comment from Dorie that alluded to her education, but couldn't come up with anything even when he'd insinuated that she was stupid.

  In fact, Jenny had been the only one to make a statement about Dorie's intelligence when she referred to her being a great mind trapped in a small town. But he'd thought she meant compared to everyone else in Gator Bait, not compared to most of the world. With the kind of intelligence Brian had explained, Dorie Berenger was primed to pull off almost anything she wanted, especially on her own turf.

  Either one of the attempts on her life could have been staged to throw him off track. In fact, had he not shown up at her boat, the explosion would have provided a convenient way for Dorie to disappear. He shook his head, trying to make sense of it all. And what about the sheriff? He claimed to be her father, but was that the truth? And if he was, then who was her mother? Those were two questions that would require answers, whether Dorie liked it or not. But did she even have that answer? And was it possible that everyone in Gator Bait was lying as well?

  He rose from the bed and strapped on his gun. It was time to have another conversation with Sheriff Berenger.

  Joe drove down the highway back to Gator Bait confused about what he should be feeling. Part of him wanted to remain angry with Dorie and that idiot Richard, but something odd had happened between Dorie and her dad at the retirement home, and Joe was getting a very strange vibe. He knew that whatever was bothering her had been enough to make her rush past him and Sherry and out the front doors of the retirement home without a single word.

  Joe and Sherry had looked at each other in surprise as the doors slammed shut, then Joe had rushed out after her. He caught up with her halfway across the parking lot, but all she said was that the meeting was over. One look at her face had been enough to tell him that this was a good time to shut up and drive. Still, it was a long way back to Gator Bait, wondering all the while what had happened to make Dorie run out like that.

  If it were Richard sitting here with her, he'd probably just come right out and ask. Of course, I'm still several IQ points above Richard when it comes to dealing with Dorie, so that's not a good comparison at all. Joe sighed and tried to shut off his thoughts. Dorie would tell him when she was darn good and ready, and he knew there were no words that could change that fact.

  He sighed again, and Dorie turned from the passenger window and looked directly at him. "You want to know what's wrong and you're not going to ask because you're afraid I'll shoot you.” She shook her head. "Don't worry about it. I left my gun at your house."

  Joe stared at her in surprise. "You're not packing? You haven't been without a firearm since you were eight. "The explosion must have rattled her more than he'd thought. Dorie strapped on a gun the way most people put on underwear. The fact that she admitted she forgot her gun made him worry even more. She had no problem admitting when she was wrong, but admitting a weakness was a whole different story.

  "Is it anything I need to know?" Joe asked.

  Dorie looked back out the window and nodded. "Yeah, you need to know all of it. I'm just not so sure I'm up to telling it." She pointed at an exit for the next town. "Turn off here and let's find a place for a cup of coffee. I can't eat, but I need to tell you what I have to say face-to-face."

  Joe exited the highway without a word, wondering what in the world Dorie had to tell him, but already certain he wasn't going to like it.

  Shawn Roland exited the interstate a couple of cars behind Joe and Dorie. He followed them long enough to ascertain their destination, then continued past the breakfast shop and back toward the highway. How could he have missed killing her a second time? The explosion couldn't have left much of her boat. The only way she could still be walking around today is if she hadn't been inside when it exploded.

  This woman was making things extremely difficult. His connection in the East was champing at the bit for delivery, and his contact in Gator Bait was beyond paranoid over Dorie Berenger's involvement in the investigation. Both worries put him at risk for not completing this job.

  And failure wasn't an option when payment had already been made.

  He cursed under his breath. For someone who didn't believe in luck, Roland was afraid he'd finally found someone who had discovered that luxury.

  He was not amused.

  Richard walked out of the motel prepared to pay Sheriff Berenger a visit, but stopped before he got to the parking area. There were two problems with that idea. The first was that if Dorie were in on things with Roland, then the sheriff was likely involved too. By talking to him, Richard would just tip his hand. Plus, he had no car. He'd completely forgotten that his rental, slashed tires and all, was still out where Dorie's boat used to be.

  "Damn it," he said and looked up and down Main Street as if a car was going to magically appear. Deciding that he was stuck until he could get four new tires, he blew out a breath and crossed the street to the cafe. Maybe Jenny would know who to call about getting his car fixed.

  Jenny was busy with a table in the corner when he walked in the cafe, but she looked up and nodded in acknowledgment. Richard took a seat at the counter. A minute or so later she stood in front of Richard, a worried expression on her face.

  "Is Dorie all right?" she asked. "People have been talking this morning about the explosion. Then, when neither she nor Joe showed up at the sheriff's office this morning, I really started to worry."

  "Dorie's fine," Richard said. "We weren't in the boat when it exploded."

  Jenny looked at him in obvious surprise. "We? You mean you were there when it happened?"

  Richard nodded. "Yes. I was there to protect her. A hell of a job I did on that one."

  Jenny gave him a sympathetic look. "I'm sure no one is blaming you. Well, except maybe Joe and Sheriff Berenger."

  Richard blanched at the accuracy of the statement. "I'm having a bit of a problem with my car. I need to have it towed and get four new tires. I don't suppose there's anyone in Gator Bait who handles that sort of thing?"

  "Sure," Jenny said and wrote a number and address down on her pad. "He works out of his house, but he could probably get you fixed up enough to make it to lake Charles for a better job. Did the bad guy get a hold of your car, too?"

  "I'm afraid so."

  She shook her head in obvious dismay. "this guy you're chasing is something this town has never seen. I never thought we could have such goings-on in a place like Gator Bait."

  "Gator Bait is definitely not what 1 had in mind for a drug deal, either, but apparently business worked out here. It's just a matter of finding out with whom."

  Jenny's eyes widened in surprise. "Oh. You think someone in Gator Bait is in on things with this guy?"

  "There's no other explanation for his being here."

  She considered that fact for a moment then narrowed her eyes at him. "Then who is it? You've got to have an idea."

  He sighed. "T
hat's just it. We don't have an idea at all. It could be anyone." He gave her a small smile. "It could even be you."

  She was clearly taken aback for a moment but quickly realized he was trying to make a joke. "I guess you've got a point," she said and gave him a smile. "Of course, if I was really a suspect, I don't suppose you'd be sitting here letting me know that."

  "I don't know," he said, considering her words. "I guess I would if I wanted to study your reaction."

  “I never thought of it that way before. You must find it hard to trust people."

  He crinkled his brow. "Why would you say that?"

  She shrugged. "I just figure that if you take your job as serious as Dorie, then you probably work more than anything else. And if you're always in some strange city looking for a bad guy, then everyone you talk to is a potential criminal. It's sort of depressing."

  "You have no idea," he said, then quickly continued with the line of questioning he'd been holding back before he lost his nerve. "Jenny, you've been here your whole life, right?"

  She nodded. "My family's been here three generations."

  "I want to ask you something, but I need you to promise me that you won't tell anyone what I asked."

  Her eyes widened and she nodded solemnly at Richard. "Okay."

  Taking a deep breath, he made the plunge. "What do you know about Dorie's mother?"

  "Whew," Jenny said and rocked back on her heels away from the counter. "That wasn't along the lines of the question I was expecting at all." She stepped back next to the counter and stared at him, indecision written clearly on her face. "l suppose it wouldn't do me any good at all to ask why you want to know?"

  He shook his head.

  She thought for a bit longer, then sighed. "I guess I can't see what it would hurt to tell you what I know. But you have to make me a promise, too."

  "Depends on the promise."