Clint Wolf Mystery Trilogy: Boxed Set

by BJ Bourg

  “I know Lil’ Suzy wants to protect her dad’s memory,” he said, “but I have to do what Isaiah would want me to do. My loyalty was to him and I have to honor what I think his wishes would be. In this matter, I know he would help his little girl no matter what the consequences, so that’s what I’m going to do.”

  My heartbeat quickened and I sat straight in my chair. “Wait…you’ll talk to me?”

  “I don’t want to, but I have to,” he said. “It’s what Isaiah would want.”

  I reached in my pocket and pulled out a digital recorder. Setting it on the table between us, I nodded toward it and asked, “Do you mind?”

  Damian sighed. “No, I guess not. I know you’ll need to carry proof back to Louisiana.”

  I nodded and flipped the recorder on. I began by asking how he met Isaiah.

  “I’d been boxing for about six years when he first walked in the gym.” Damian pursed his lips, remembering. “I was wrapping my hands and about to start doing some bag work when he walked in. I think he got the attention of everybody in the gym, because he showed up wearing dirty jeans and a greasy T-shirt.” Damian laughed. “That’s how he fought, too. When we stepped in the ring—”

  “Wait a minute…he fought the first day he walked in the gym?”

  “My coach was a hard ass. This is boxing, he’d say, not figure skating. He made me tune up all the new comers on their first day. He knew I could press them just enough to find out what they were made of without hurting them.”

  I was thoughtful. “So, he was trying to find out who had the stomach for it?”

  “Yeah, he always said you can’t teach heart, and he wouldn’t waste time on those who didn’t have it.”

  “I take it Isaiah had heart?”

  “Had heart? That boy was all heart. He came at me hard…right from the opening bell. I had to put some leather on him just trying to keep him off of me. I could tell right away he lacked any form of defense and he was easy to hit, but nothing I did slowed him down. Hell, he seemed willing to take four punches just to land one.” Damian shook his head, chuckling as he continued. “I beat the hell out of him that first night—broke his nose in the first round—but he wouldn’t quit coming. When the first round was over, Coach asked him if he’d had enough. He spat out a mouthful of blood and said he had me right where he wanted me.”

  Damian said they grew to be close friends after that night and became regular sparring partners. “He started bringing Lil’ Suzie to the gym and we all fell in love with her. I’d work her on the mitts from time to time. She could throw a good punch for such a little kid.”

  He talked a lot about Isaiah’s fights and gave blow-by-blow accounts of nearly all of them. I would’ve interrupted him, because none of it was relevant, but I was too intrigued. Finally, when he took a break from talking to grab a bottle of water from a small refrigerator in the corner of his office, I asked about something Mrs. Wilson had mentioned.

  “So, Isaiah’s wife told me she thought you were a bad influence. Any idea why she would say that?”

  “I was a young man—younger than Isaiah—and single. I liked to party on the weekends to blow off steam from training all week long, and he was my best friend, so I wanted him to party with me.” Damian hung his head. “I know I was to blame for a lot of his marital problems, and I’ll regret that until the day I die. Lisa hated me. She told Isaiah more than once that he’d have to choose between me and her. It was usually when we were about to go out and I’d be waiting in my truck. She’d walk outside so Suzie couldn’t hear the fussing and she’d give him an ultimatum. It’s your friend or your family, she’d say. Choose one! I don’t know why, but he always chose me.”

  “How’d she take it? Mrs. Wilson—what would she do?”

  “She’d just stand there crying. I was always happy he chose to go out with me, but a small part of me felt guilty—well, until that first beer. After I’d get some alcohol in me I’d be fine. I remember looking back in my rearview mirror once and seeing her wipe her eyes dry and compose herself. I knew she was doing that so Suzie wouldn’t know she was upset.” He shook his head. “That image haunts me to this day. I never looked back again.”

  “Did Lisa ever leave Isaiah?”

  “She loved Suzie more than she loved herself. She never left Isaiah because she didn’t want to hurt Suzie, and she never said a bad word about him. My wife, she left my ass after a year and she told everybody in town I had some venereal disease I can’t even pronounce. She filled my kids’ heads with so much garbage that they still won’t talk to me—even after all these years.”

  I thought I saw a shiny tear sliding down the side of his face at the mention of his kids, but I couldn’t be sure. “So, what about Bill Hedd…do you know why he hated Isaiah?”

  “I do,” Damian said quietly. “Yes, sir, I know why he hated my friend.”

  When he remained quiet for at least thirty seconds, I nodded and said, “Why don’t you go ahead and tell me what you know? For little Suzie’s sake.”

  CHAPTER 15

  9:45 PM

  Ten miles north of Mechant Loup

  When I ended my interview with Damian ten hours earlier, I’d ridden hard for Mechant Loup, his words burning a hole in my brain. Susan wouldn’t like what I’d discovered and she wouldn’t want me to use it, but it was the smoking gun I’d hoped for and I wasn’t going to let her go to jail for something she didn’t do. When I called Isabel and told her what I had learned, she suggested I get with Susan’s attorney as soon as possible and have him set up a meeting with Bill.

  “This might just do the trick,” she’d said. “Bill would never let that information go public.”

  I glanced at my phone again, but I hadn’t received another message from Chloe. I’d called her at least six times on the drive back, but she never answered. The first two times I called, her phone rang a dozen times before going to voicemail. Afterward, they would go immediately to voicemail. I sent her a text message at about six o’clock when I’d stopped for gas and she’d finally replied with a message that read, In interview. Will text again later.

  The lights from town glowed bright beneath the dark sky up ahead and I wondered what was going on at the office, so I called.

  “What are you doing at work?” I asked when Amy answered. “I thought you got hurt.”

  “My wrist is banged up a little, but I’m fine.” She went on to tell me everything was quiet. “We’ve been hitting the south side of town hard, but there’s no sign of the Parker brothers. I think we might’ve scared them away.”

  “I doubt it. They don’t scare easy. Did y’all get arrest warrants for them?”

  She told me they only obtained one for Simon. “The judge didn’t think I could properly identify Taylor and David, so he refused to sign those. I got pissed, but Melvin said it was okay because they’d all be together anyway.”

  “He’s right.” I told her to be careful and hung up. Just ahead of me in the sky was a dim glow that marked the town of Mechant Loup. I inadvertently sped up—feeling a burning desire to find the Parker brothers—and was taking the final curve in the highway at seventy miles per hour. It wasn’t a good idea in daylight, much less at nighttime. As I shot around the bend in the road, my attention was immediately drawn to the lift bridge that separated Mechant Loup from the rest of the world. Something seemed odd about it—different—but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Maybe it was the long drive or my mind was preoccupied, but I didn’t slow down until it was almost too late.

  “What the—?” I smashed the brake pedal to the ground and was lurched forward—the seatbelt locking me in place—as the vehicle abruptly slowed to a stop just inches before crashing through the barrier arms of the open bridge. I took a moment to catch my breath and then stepped out into the cool night air, my knees weak. Relieved that I hadn’t plowed through the arms and over the edge of the bridge, I watched as the lift span began its slow descent. The gears on the bridge squeaked and the chains rattled i
n protest as it closed. I shook my head in awe. I’d been in town for over a year and had never seen the bridge open to boat traffic. Hell, I didn’t even know there was a bridge tender up in the cabin. So much for my detective skills.

  I stepped forward and realized there were red lights on both barrier arms, but they were busted, which accounted for the reason I couldn’t see them. They probably hadn’t been turned on in years. I made a mental note to let the town’s maintenance department know about it and then ducked under the arm.

  I made my way to the edge of the deck and stared down into the blackness below. It was too dark to see clearly, but the moonlight sparkled off of waves lapping against the shore, apparently caused by a passing boat. There was a gurgling sound from somewhere below, and I couldn’t help but wonder if the large alligator that had taken Dexter’s arm was back in Bayou Tail. I shuddered, hoping never to encounter that beast again.

  A gentle breeze blew in from the marsh and felt good against my face. A cold front must’ve blown through while I was gone. It felt like the seventies, which could almost be considered below freezing this far south.

  “Where’s the boat?” I asked aloud. I turned my head to the right and left, scanning up and down Bayou Tail, but didn’t see anything. Shrugging, I returned to my vehicle and waited to cross over to the other side. My Tahoe rocked gently as the lift span made contact with the deck and settled roughly into place. Seconds later, the barrier arms made a jerky motion and began to lift upward. As soon as there was enough room for me to pass, I sped across the bridge and entered town.

  When I reached Cig’s Gas Station, I turned right on Grace Street and then hooked a left on Jezebel. I sighed when I pulled into my driveway and saw that my house was still standing. I wouldn’t put it past Simon and company to burn my house down or destroy it in some other way. Of course, I figured they’d rather set it ablaze with me inside. I was not entirely opposed to the idea, because that would mean they’d have to come to me and I wouldn’t have to go looking for them.

  Although my place appeared undisturbed, I wasn’t taking any chances. I drew my pistol and moved into the shadows as I made my way around the exterior of my house, searching for broken windows and checking the doors. There was no barking from inside, so Chloe had taken Achilles with her. This made me feel even better, because if anyone could protect her, it was him.

  Once I’d confirmed that my house was secure, I holstered my pistol and entered through the back door. I began packing a duffel bag for a few days. I couldn’t leave the police department unguarded. It was the heartbeat of the town and I had to keep it secure.

  After I packed my clothes, I opened my gun safe and grabbed my AR-15 and a case of ammunition. Slinging the rifle over one shoulder and the box of ammo over the other, I strolled to my car and loaded them in the front driver’s seat. As I was leaning into the car, something snapped behind me in the bushes. I whirled around, gripping my pistol with my right hand. Holding my breath, I tried to penetrate the darkness with my eyes, listening for the slightest hint of movement. Nothing.

  Suddenly, the stillness of the night was shattered by the obnoxious chirping of my cell phone. I ducked low and reached for it with my left hand, switching it to silent. I held my breath and listened for more movement. Still nothing.

  When I was certain all was clear, I straightened, holstering my pistol as I did. I glanced down at my phone and sighed when I saw a message from Chloe. She said she’d just gotten to her dad’s house and was beat. Call you in the am, she wrote.

  I scowled. What about a phone call to tell me goodnight or to ask how my day went? Disgusted with the impersonal nature of text messages and cursing the person who invented them, I tossed my phone into the Tahoe and returned inside my house to grab my duffel bag. I also snatched two bottles of vodka from under the counter and stashed them between my clothes.

  I locked up my place and headed for the office. The radio traffic was light. It scratched to life as I was pulling into the sally port and I turned up the volume. One by one, Amy contacted three sheriff’s deputies who were patrolling the town and asked if there were any signs of the Parker brothers. They each reported that everything was clear. I knew it wasn’t a matter of if the brothers would resurface…it was when and where.

  Slinging my bag over my shoulder and snatching my AR-15 from the seat next to me, I stepped out the Tahoe. I smashed the button to lower the garage door and then made my way through the processing area and into the patrol room. I was surprised to see Amy sitting at the dispatcher’s station. There was a 12-gauge shotgun on the desk in front of her and her left hand went for it when I opened the door.

  She relaxed when she saw it was me. She waved and it was then that I noticed a bandage around her right wrist. “Welcome back, Clint.”

  “Where’s Marsha?” I asked. Marsha was my night shift dispatcher and she was as regular as the summertime heat in Louisiana.

  “Susan sent her home,” Amy explained. “We didn’t know what to expect tonight and we didn’t want to put her at risk.”

  I nodded and looked around. All of the office doors were shut and the shades were drawn in the front lobby. “Where’s Melvin?”

  She shot a thumb toward the conference room. “He crashed on the floor. He said he’s going back out on the water early in the morning to try and track the Parkers down. He spent some time out there today, along with the sheriff’s water patrol guys, but they didn’t find anything.”

  “He’s not going without me.” I glanced at the door to Susan’s office. “Is she in there?”

  Amy nodded. “We’re sleeping in shifts. She’ll be up at midnight to stand guard while I sleep for a little bit. There’s also a deputy sleeping in the break room and two SWAT officers hiding around the building. We’re trying to keep this place guarded because Susan thinks they’ll either attack us here, or call in bogus complaints and ambush us one by one.”

  I nodded my agreement. “They’re cowards that way. When you go back out on patrol, I want that deputy riding shotgun. No more single cars until we’ve dealt with those bastards.”

  She nodded, but her eyes narrowed and her lips formed a thin line, as though she were angry.

  I’d seen that look on my own face and knew immediately what was going on. “You’re pissed at yourself for not taking them out last night.”

  “I feel like such a fool. I didn’t even consider that it was a trap.” She shook her head. “I should’ve started shooting right when they approached my car.”

  “You had no way of knowing what you were dealing with, so you did the right thing. For all you knew, it could’ve been some teenagers trying to taunt you on a dare.” I shifted the duffel bag on my shoulder and headed for my office to get some sleep. “I was right in hiring you. You’re a fighter.”

  I pushed through my office door and noticed the shades were closed and the drapes pulled tight. Someone had put a cot with a pillow in the corner. I kicked off my boots and shirt, and then sat in the dark pulling from one of the bottles of vodka, wondering how Achilles was handling being in a strange place. Since bringing him home as a puppy, he’d never slept in a different bed. If he was anything like me, he could sleep anywhere, but not everyone was like me.

  The last thing I remembered wondering was what I would tell Susan when she asked about my conversation with Damian.

  CHAPTER 16

  Thursday, October 29

  Mechant Loup Police Department

  The sun was shining through a sliver of a crack between the drapes when I opened my eyes the next morning. My head pounded and my neck and back ached. It took me a minute to realize where I was. When I did, I quickly sat up and looked at the clock on the wall. Six-thirty. I’d called Susan’s lawyer on my drive into town and told him I had some important information about Susan’s case. He’d agreed to meet with me at noon—it was the earliest he could manage. That gave me a few hours to hunt down the Parker brothers.

  I pulled on a T-shirt, grabbed my duffel bag, and
walked out into the patrol area. Lindsey was sitting at her desk staring at the front door. Her head jerked around when my door opened.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  Her bottom lip quivered. “Do…do you really think we’ll be attacked?”

  Not one to lie about such things, I shrugged. “I can’t say for sure. If you feel uncomfortable being here, you can go home until it’s all over. I’ll pay you for your missed days.”

  She shook her head. “I’m scared, but I’m not leaving. Y’all need me working the radio.”

  I smiled and hurried to the shower room located at the back of the police department and got ready for work. Once I was cleaned and dressed in my polyester uniform, I strapped on my gun belt and stared at myself in the mirror. I couldn’t help but wonder if this would be the day I’d get to see Michele and Abigail again. I pulled out a picture of them that I kept in my wallet and frowned. I missed them so much. I knew I had to go on living, but I was ready to be with them. I’d often wondered what I’d say to them when that moment came. I would certainly apologize for trying to intercede in the robbery. I hung my head low and frowned, wishing time travel was real and I could go back and—

  “Chief, come quick!” It was Lindsey and she was just outside the shower room. “There’s been a murder.”

  I rushed out and followed Lindsey to her desk. Susan was standing there with Dexter, who cradled a rifle in his good arm. I avoided making eye contact with Susan, still unsure how I would handle the information I’d received from Damian.

  Dexter nodded when I walked up. “I’m here to help defend the fort.”

  “You don’t have to be here,” I said. “Along with Sheriff Turner’s people, we’ve got it covered.”

  “I’m the mayor here, Clint…it’s my responsibility to help protect this town. Like all good captains, I’d go down with my ship.”