by BJ Bourg
“I didn’t read anything in the report about an affair. Are you talking about her affair with Isaiah Wilson?”
“I had no clue about Isaiah until Susan’s lawyer came by the office Thursday.” Reginald shook his head and recalled how Bill had found a receipt in his wife’s purse for a hotel room in the city. “That prompted him to follow Jolene one day and he saw her meet up with this guy in a black pickup truck. He copied the license plate number and had one of his investigators run it. It came back to Lance Duggart.” Reginald explained how Bill had confronted Jolene and threatened to divorce her, but she begged him not to leave her and promised to break it off with Duggart.
“But why isn’t any of that in the report?”
“Professional courtesy.” Reginald shrugged. “Bill had been through enough, so I didn’t see any reason to cause him further embarrassment by speculating about his wife’s infidelity.”
“It’s not speculation—Bill told you about it. And wouldn’t that tidbit of information be huge during the trial?”
“The information I had from Bill was pure hearsay and Duggart never admitted to the affair. In fact, he flat denied it.” Reginald grunted. “It wasn’t until we got the results back on the semen found inside Jolene that he wanted to talk.”
I went back to the picture of Jolene’s nude body, processing what I’d just heard. “So, do you think Jolene was trying to break it off with Duggart and he got angry and attacked her?”
“That’s basically what he told me when he confessed.”
I flipped through the report, locating a synopsis of Duggart’s statement to Reginald. “I read that, but I couldn’t find a transcript or an evidence form for a recorded confession. Everyone was using cassettes back then and I’m guessing y’all were, too, right?”
“Yeah, but he refused to give a recorded statement,” Reginald said. “I told him it would protect him by keeping us from putting words in his mouth, but he told me to go screw myself.”
I asked Reginald if Bill’s revelation was what led him to the Bayou View Pub, and he said it was. He said Duggart wasn’t there, but Megyn was and she was willing to tell him everything he needed to know. “She confirmed the affair and even said Duggart told her he was tired of being used by Jolene,” Reginald said. “I immediately went out to his house to question him. He gave us consent to search his house and we tore it apart, but didn’t find anything.”
“I saw that in the report. It looked like y’all found the bloody knife outside…in the garage, right?”
“Yeah, Doug went rummaging through the garage and found it hidden in a rusty toolbox. It made him feel better about losing the case to me.” Reginald smiled, thinking back. When he continued, he said Duggart went crazy when they showed him the knife and he accused them of planting it.
I’d read the crime lab report and saw that the blood on the knife came back to Jolene. I mentioned it to Reginald and he nodded.
“I arrested Duggart as soon as the preliminaries came back on the blood. Once he was in custody, I asked for consent to swab his cheeks for a DNA sample, but he refused.” Reginald chuckled. “I got a search warrant and we tied him to a table and swabbed his cheeks anyway. Considering how hard he fought, I wasn’t surprised when the lab matched his DNA to the sperm recovered from Jolene’s dead body. Needless to say, the jury deliberated for less than an hour when they heard that key piece of evidence.”
I stared down at the file. What was I missing? Chloe had hit on something—and that something had gotten her killed. But what was it? Could the name of Bill’s lover be the key to everything? Or was it simply the time issue?
“Reginald, did you listen to the recording Chloe captured right before she died?”
“No, I haven’t had the chance yet.”
I explained how the evidence custodian couldn’t find Megyn’s recorded statement, and asked if Megyn told him what time Duggart returned to the bar that night.
“Damn, that was twenty years ago, Clint.” Reginald stared at the ceiling and squinted. After a moment he said, “I think she gave an exact time, like eleven-thirteen, or something. When I asked how she could give an exact time, she pointed to some clock in the bar and said she looked at it when he got there.” Reginald smirked. “When I compared the time on the clock to my watch, it was off by an hour and eleven minutes.”
“Did Megyn or Lance ever mention Bill having a girlfriend?”
Reginald shook his head. “If he was having an affair, we would’ve known about it.”
I leaned back in my chair and shook my head. “What was Chloe after, Reggie? What did she find that we’re missing?”
Reginald scowled and leaned over, staring down at the ground. “I don’t even want to consider what she might’ve found,” he said softly.
“Why’s that?”
“For most, their first instincts aren’t always right, but for me, they are.” When he looked up his eyes seemed drawn. “My first instincts were that Bill Hedd killed his wife, but I let him talk me out of it.”
“What are you saying?” I asked, my blood slowly turning to ice. “Do you think Chloe found evidence that implicated Bill in the murder of his wife and he killed Chloe to keep her quiet?”
Reginald stood and paced back and forth, shaking his head. “I can’t even go there in my head. I’ve known Bill for too long. He’s a bit bullheaded and brash, but he’s honest. I don’t think he’s capable of that sort of thing. Hell, he hired me as his top investigator because I had the stones to stand up to him. He admired that and respected me for it.”
“Then what is it, Reggie?”
He stopped pacing and pursed his lips. “Considering how mad Danny said he got at Chloe, I just don’t know anymore.”
I suddenly remembered the text I’d received from Chloe’s phone while it was pinging in the area of the news station. “Does Bill have any friends or allies at the news station?”
“Bill’s got friends everywhere. Why?”
I explained what we learned about her phone being used in the area of the news station after her death, and he dropped to a chair, mulling it over. After sitting there for a while, his mouth dropped open. “Shit, Clint, our office is a block away from the news station!”
“And?” As soon as I said it, my own mouth dropped open. “If Bill was using her phone it would’ve pinged in that same area!”
Reginald stood and nodded. “The text messages weren’t coming from the news station…they were coming from the district attorney’s office!”
CHAPTER 42
Susan had seemed especially quiet on the drive back to Mechant Loup. Other than laying out the timeline they received from Chloe’s intern, she didn’t say much. I told her everything I remembered about the file and shared Reginald’s suspicions, but she didn’t have much to say in return. She had received a call from Amy earlier saying the interim mayor wanted to meet with all of us at the town hall when we were finished our duties, so we headed that way.
“Did Amy say who the council picked as the interim mayor?” I asked when we arrived in the parking lot and stepped out of the truck.
Susan shook her head. “She didn’t even know. One of the council members saw her in the lobby at the town hall and asked her to get the word out to all of us.”
I nodded my understanding and we marched up the large concrete steps, pushing our way through the double glass doors just as Melvin and Amy strode from the section of the building that had been loaned to us. They both stopped and stared at me, a strange look on their faces.
I approached them and nodded. “Is everything okay?”
Melvin walked up and wrapped me in a bear hug. “I was so scared you’d go to jail last night, Chief,” he said, his voice trembling. “We need you here. We can’t do this without you.”
I slapped his back a couple of times. “I’m still here, Melvin.”
When he let go, Amy gave me a light fist-bump with her injured hand. “I just started working for you,” she said. “They can’t take
you away just yet.”
We all laughed and walked down the hall together, heading for what used to be Dexter Boudreaux’s office.
“Any idea who it is?” Melvin asked.
“Not a clue,” I said, reaching for the knob. When I turned it and opened the door, I nearly choked on my tongue.
Pauline Cain was sitting behind the desk. She quickly stood to her feet and took a deep breath. “Why, hello, Chief. It looks like we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other.”
“Mrs. Cain…what the hell?” I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.
“The council approached me and asked if I’d serve as the interim mayor until a special election could be organized.” She straightened the front of her suit jacket and nodded. “I agreed to do it and, if this job suits me, I might officially run for the office.”
I smiled. “Wow, that’s great. I’m proud to serve under you.”
Susan, Melvin, and Amy echoed a chorus of agreements. When they were done, Pauline said she would allow me to run the police department as I saw fit, the same as Dexter. She then grabbed a box from her desk and tossed it toward me. I caught it in the air and glanced at it.
“It’s your new phone,” she explained. “I understand you lost your old one in the fire, and I need to be able to keep in touch with you. It’s the same as your old number.”
I thanked her and took it out of the box, grumbling silently over the thought of reentering contact information for everyone I knew.
“Now, I have to get to work planning some funerals,” Pauline said. “We have to honor those who have fallen in the last few days. Afterward, I’ll be meeting with the council about rebuilding the police department. Until then, please make yourselves at home here. Our house is your house.”
We thanked her and talked briefly before walking out into the cool night air. Amy had been out on the streets all day, so she bid us goodnight and headed home.
“I’m on nights, Chief,” Melvin said. “Anything you need, just holler.”
“Susan and I will be out of town again tomorrow,” I said. Susan’s brow furrowed and I explained. “We’re going to prison—I want to pay Lance Duggart a visit, see for myself what he has to say.”
“Good idea,” Susan said.
“I’ll be here to help Amy if she needs anything,” Melvin said. “I don’t sleep during the day anyway, with my wife and baby home.”
He started to walk away, but I stopped him. “Hey, did you recover any evidence from the bridge cabin?”
“Oh yeah, I recovered a dozen shoe prints, but that’s about it.” He frowned. “I think the killer wore gloves, because I didn’t find any fingerprints except my own.”
“Where’re the shoe prints?”
“I turned them over to Mallory and she entered them into their evidence.”
I thanked him and got into the truck with Susan. She hesitated before cranking the engine.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Are you coming back to my place?”
I stammered, finally muttered, “I mean, is it okay? I haven’t had a chance to fix up my place yet. I can pay you rent, if you like.”
“No, it’s great,” Susan said quickly. “You can stay as long as you like—or until I run out of food—and I’d never accept a penny from you, so don’t even mention that again.”
I thanked her and suddenly slapped my forehead, remembering Achilles. “Shit! Achilles is still at Chloe’s dad’s house. He must think I abandoned him.”
“My back yard is fenced and my house is dog-proof,” Susan offered. “We can pick him up now and bring him with us. I’d love to have him around.”
“That’d be nice…thanks.”
When she still didn’t start the truck, I turned to her and demanded she tell me what was on her mind.
She lowered her eyes and spoke so softly I could barely hear her. “Chloe’s intern mentioned that you and Chloe had broken up, and I wanted you to know how sorry I am for you.”
I furrowed my brows. “We didn’t break up.”
Susan looked me right in the eyes. “I was afraid you didn’t know.”
“Didn’t know what?”
“Ali said Chloe called her and said she was having lunch with her boyfriend. When I told her you were in Tennessee, she said Chloe had broken up with you and she was seeing some new guy.”
I laughed off Susan’s comment. “No, Chloe and I were still very much together, and she didn’t have some new boyfriend. Ali must’ve misheard her. Hell, between her job and hanging with me, Chloe didn’t have time for anything else.”
Susan forced a smile. “You’re probably right.”
I studied her face as she fired up the engine and drove out of the parking lot. She was visibly troubled, and that worried me. I’d never suspected Chloe of being unfaithful, but now a sliver of doubt was starting to wedge its way into my mind.
CHAPTER 43
7:15 a.m., Sunday, November 1
Susan Wilson’s House – Mechant Loup, Louisiana
The sun was shining through the curtains in Susan’s living room when I awakened. I heard snoring from the corner and wondered if that was what had stirred me from my sleep. I sat up and glanced in the direction of the noise. Achilles was fast asleep, snoring like a human. He had gone crazy with delight when we picked him up, nearly knocking me off my feet. While he had run around the yard showing off, Susan and I had sat on the porch with Chloe’s parents, answering every question they had. They had scheduled her funeral for Monday morning and asked that I serve as a pallbearer. I’d agreed and Susan and I had left shortly afterward. We’d made a brief stop at my house to gather more of my clothes and some toys for Achilles, and then headed for her place.
I stretched and reached for the arm of the sofa, where I’d thrown my T-shirt last night. As I was pulling it on, I caught movement from the kitchen and looked up to see Susan leaning against the wall, watching me. She wore a long orange cotton shirt that made her tanned figure seem even darker, and she was sipping from a cup of coffee. Her face turned red and she quickly looked away. “Sorry,” she said. “I was trying not to wake you.”
“You didn’t.” I pointed to Achilles. “That air horn of a nose woke me up.”
I joined her in the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee for myself. Achilles’ ears had perked up and he watched me walk by, but then went back to chasing lady dogs in his sleep.
Susan dropped to a chair at the table, crossing her legs as she sat. “I’ve got muffins in the oven.”
“You’d better stop doing that,” I said. “You’re going to spoil me.”
Susan ignored the comment, instead asking how I slept.
“Like the dead.”
In a quiet voice, she asked if I’d had any nightmares.
I smiled. “I haven’t had one since I killed Simon and had that dream about Abigail being an angel.”
That seemed to please her and her eyes glistened. “I’m really happy for you.”
We didn’t talk much during breakfast, each lost in our own thoughts. I didn’t know what she was thinking, but I was mulling over what she’d said about Chloe having a new boyfriend. While I was fairly certain Ali had misunderstood what Chloe told her, that sliver of doubt was growing inside my mind—especially when I remembered what her parents had told me about her runaway—and I was starting to question every incident where she’d come home late or missed one of my calls. I wasn’t prepared to accept it yet, but if she did have a new boyfriend, I needed to know his name and where he was when Chloe got murdered. But how was I supposed to find out now that Chloe was dead?
After Susan and I ate, we took turns showering and dressing for work. I was just snapping my gun belt in place in front of the bathroom mirror when a strange ring sounded from the living room. I looked toward Susan’s bedroom, where I could see her putting the finishing touch on her braided hair.
“What’s that noise?” I asked.
“It must be your new phone,” she called. “I’ve never he
ard that sound before.”
I hurried into the living room and dug through my bag, finally locating my phone. It was Mayor Cain.
“I hope I didn’t wake you, but I wanted you to know I pulled some strings with Rupe’s Dealership—I’m good friends with Julie Rupe, as you know—and had them deliver your new police package Tahoe this morning. They didn’t have time to put the stickers on, but it’s here whenever you’re ready to pick it up.”
After thanking her, Susan and I headed for the town hall. Melvin was in the office reserved for us and he tossed me a set of keys when I walked in. “This is from the mayor. She said it’s for the black Tahoe in the parking lot.”
Lindsey was sitting at a desk in the corner of the large room, a portable radio in front of her and a bandage across her exposed shoulder.
I smiled when I saw her. “I’m glad you came back to work. How’s your shoulder?”
“It’s hurts a little, but I’ll be fine. To be honest, I didn’t think I’d be back,” she admitted. “I’ve never been that scared in my whole life.”
“None of us have,” Amy said. Her wrist was still bandaged, but she was in good spirits. “You took your gunshot like a real hero.”
Lindsey’s face beamed and she turned toward the radio log, making a note of some traffic that had come across the waves.
Susan pulled me aside. “Why don’t you go to the prison and interview Duggart alone?” she said. “I’ll stay here and give Amy a hand.”
I agreed it would be better to have Susan there, given Amy’s injury, and I followed Melvin outside. I asked about his wife and daughter before climbing into my new Tahoe, and he said they were fine.
“Claire wants me to hang up my badge,” he said slowly. “She doesn’t want to be a widower at such an early age.”
I couldn’t say that I blamed her, but it was a personal decision and I didn’t want to influence him either way, so I just waved and headed for my new Tahoe. The state prison was two hours away and I wanted to be back before sundown.
