by BJ Bourg
“Are you okay?” Susan asked when we pulled into her driveway. “You haven’t said much on the drive home.”
“I’m just tired, I guess.”
“Well, why don’t you grab a shower and I’ll scramble up some eggs.” She stretched and I couldn’t help but notice how the polyester uniform shirt pulled against her ample breasts. “After we eat, I plan on calling in sick, taking a long hot bath, and then dying in bed for a while.”
I smiled and nodded. “If you’re plan on calling your chief, he won’t be in today.”
She winked at me and stepped out of the Tahoe. I followed her inside and hurried through a shower, my mind preoccupied on my tragic past, confusing present and uncertain future.
When I was dressed, I met Susan in the kitchen and we ate in silence. I wondered if she regretted telling me she had feelings for me earlier. She hadn’t said another word about it, and I began to think it was just a spur of the moment comment uttered in a high-stress situation—one to be forgotten later.
I cleaned up the dishes while Susan went in to take a bath. When I was done, I gathered up all of my belongings and loaded them into my Tahoe. I took one last look around the living room that had been my home for the last few days and hesitated, listening by bathroom door. I could hear the ripple of water and an occasional squeaking sound as her bare body slid against the porcelain tub. Should I knock on the door to tell her goodbye? What if she asked me to stay? What if she invited me in?
My heart began racing again and my hand trembled. I turned and walked away. “Come on, Achilles, let’s go.”
I drove to the town hall and walked inside. Several town employees did double-takes when they saw me wearing jeans and a button-down shirt. I just nodded and walked to Pauline’s office. She looked up from her desk when I entered and then quickly stood to her feet.
“Clint, thank God you’re okay. It’s been one hell of a rollercoaster ride the last few days. I…I didn’t know what was going on and who the murderer was and what to tell the townspeople or what to do with—”
“It’s okay now,” I said. “Everything will get back to normal soon.”
She stood there wringing her hands, nodding. “Okay, so does this mean that being a mayor will get easier from here?”
I laughed and nodded.
She stopped fidgeting and pointed toward my hands. “What’re those?”
I looked down at my badge and commission, contemplating my next move. Earlier, I was certain what I would do, but now I was as confused as ever. When I felt like I was taking too much time, I sighed and stepped forward.
“To hell with it,” I said out loud and placed the badge and commission on Pauline’s desk. “Ma’am, I’m turning in my badge. I’m resigning as chief of police.”
Her mouth dropped open. “What in the hell are you talking about?”
“I can’t be chief of police anymore.”
“But…what am I supposed to do with the police department? I don’t know how to run a law enforcement agency. What am I to do?”
“Susan Wilson will make an excellent chief—I can promise you that.” I turned to walk away, calling over my shoulder, “I’ll get the Tahoe back to you, but there’s something I have to take care of first.”
Pauline was calling after me as the door slammed, begging me to reconsider, but I hurried off before I changed my mind.
I drove out of town heading north and then east, making my way toward the city. A little over an hour later I reached my destination and brought the Tahoe to a stop in a small shell parking lot. I turned to Achilles, who had sat beside me on the drive, his head hanging out of the window and his long tongue flapping in the wind. “Come on, boy, there are some people I want you to meet.”
Achilles jumped to his feet when I slipped out of my seat and he bounded after me, landing lightly on the ground. We walked through the rusted metal gate and strode down the long row of tombstones, enjoying the smell of fresh-cropped grass. I slowed my stride when we reached the large oak tree with the heart-shaped scar. The leaves were still green, but starting to turn brown on the edges. I hesitated for a moment and then turned right. The last hundred yards was a blur and it felt like I was walking in slow motion. If I thought I was scared earlier, I was terrified now.
After what seemed like forever, I finally reached the end of the grassy lane and stopped in front of the only two headstones there. One displayed Michele’s name and the other displayed Abigail’s, and the date of their death was inscribed beneath their names.
“It’s time for you to meet the rest of your family,” I said softly to Achilles. I turned to the tombstones and knelt in front of them. “Hey, y’all, I know it’s been a while, and we have a lot of catching up to do...”
I hesitated, a million thoughts swirling through my mind. There was so much to say and I had so many questions, but I didn’t know where to start. I was lonely and tired. As I knelt there staring at their tombs, my heart utterly destroyed from the pain of missing them so much, I broke down crying, unable to utter another word.
CHAPTER 55
“God, that felt amazing,” Susan said as she walked out of the bathroom drying her hair with a long towel. “I almost fell asleep in there…” She stopped drying her hair and glanced around the living room. The place seemed unusually quiet and empty. “Clint? Where are you? Where’s all your stuff?”
Her feet padded softly against the floor as she hurried through each room and then out onto the front porch. Panic gripped at her chest when she noticed his Tahoe was gone. Dropping the towel, she raced inside and grabbed her phone, fumbling with the screen. She called Clint first, but his phone went straight to voicemail. She called Melvin next.
“Susan, what the hell is going on?” Melvin was screaming into the phone. “The mayor just said Clint resigned! She said he told her to make you the next chief and he walked away. He left his badge and commission on her desk.”
“Where is he?” Susan asked, her bottom lip trembling. “Where’d he go? Did he just run off without saying goodbye? Do you really think he’d do that to me?”
“I don’t know,” Melvin said. “I tried calling his phone a hundred times, but it goes straight to voicemail. Amy hasn’t heard anything either. God, Susan, what are we supposed to do now? Do we try to find him? What do we do?”
Susan dropped her phone and sank to the floor in the kitchen, leaning against the wall. Tears flooded her eyes and blurred her vision. Was this her fault? Had she scared him off when she expressed her feelings earlier?
“Damn it!” she leaned forward and punched a hole in the nearest cabinet door. “Why couldn’t you just keep your mouth shut?”
Blood poured from several cuts in her knuckles as she stood to her feet and stared wildly about her kitchen. How was she supposed to make this right? What if he was gone forever? What if she never saw him again? What if he was going out to do something destructive—?
“Holy shit!” Susan quickly wiped her eyes, remembering a conversation they’d had yesterday. She was almost too afraid to wish for it, but it was all she had at the moment. “Holy shit! I think I know where you’re going!”
Wearing nothing but a thin T-shirt and skintight shorts, she snatched up her keys and ran to her old pickup truck. The engine hesitated when she turned the key, almost refusing to turn over. “Come on!” she screamed, turning the key again. Finally, it roared to life and she smashed the accelerator, racing down her street and then turning north, heading for the city. As she drove with one hand, she used the thumb of her other hand to call Melvin. He sounded bummed out when he answered.
“Melvin, are you near a computer?” Susan’s wet hair whipped across her face from the cool November wind blowing through the window and it was difficult to hear Melvin’s voice. “Say it again, but louder.”
“I can be…why?”
“Get on it and find the funeral arrangements for Michele and Abigail Wolf—I think Clint’s going out to their gravesite. Send me the address to the cemetery
as soon as you get it.” Without waiting for Melvin to answer, she tossed her phone into the console and sped up to pass a car traveling the posted speed limit.
A million thoughts raced through her mind as she drove, and her feelings vacillated between sheer panic and a slim chance of hope. She clutched at her chest often, complaining that her heart couldn’t take much more abuse.
Susan was still twenty minutes away from the city when a text message came through her phone. She stomped the brake pedal and pulled the truck to the shoulder of the highway, kicking up rocks as she skid to a stop. She read the message with trembling hands. Melvin had located the cemetery and sent her the address. She quickly punched it into her GPS and waited impatiently for the information to load. She let out an involuntary screech when she realized it was only ten minutes away. Shoving the gearshift back in drive, she merged into traffic and drove even faster, panic beating her insides like a jackhammer. What if Clint had left already? What if she was completely wrong about his destination?
Afraid to consider the negative possibilities, she tried to concentrate on something else as she drove, but it was no use.
Finally, mentally drained and physically exhausted, she turned into the cemetery parking lot. Her eyes misted over and she sighed when she caught a glimpse of Clint’s Tahoe on the far end of the lot. Not really sure of what to do next, she parked beside his vehicle and just sat there, sparsely dressed, her hair a mess, and her emotions in turmoil. While she waited, she sent a quick text message to Melvin that she’d located his vehicle at the cemetery.
She received an immediate reply from Melvin. Her heart pounded as she read it, You don’t suppose he’s decided to check out so he can be with his family again, do you? He might’ve been living to get revenge and now that it’s over…
“Clint! Oh, God! Clint!” Susan shoved her door open and dropped to the shells, ignoring the pain to her feet. She sprinted across the parking lot and smashed into a metal gate, nearly knocking it off of its flimsy hinges. She raced toward the back of the cemetery, her head on a swivel as she searched between the tombstones on either side. She screamed Clint’s name as she ran, tears flowing down her cheeks.
When she reached an oak tree at the end of the aisle, she fell against it and gasped for air. She hollered his name, but it was barely a hoarse whisper as she tried to catch her breath. Tears blurred her vision and she wiped her eyes, trying to scan her surroundings, hoping for a glimpse of movement. She screamed his name again and then stopped suddenly. What was that noise?
She heard the sound a second time before it registered. Pushing herself off of the tree, she looked toward the right. Off in the distance, against the blinding sun, she saw a black figure running toward her. It was low to the ground and it was barking as it ran.
“Achilles!” her heart immediately sank. Where was Clint? Why was Achilles alone? What if Clint had taken his own life? She started running toward Achilles when another shadow emerged from the shimmering waves of light. As she grew closer, she recognized the walk and the shape of the man she loved. She rubbed her eyes with her hands and he slowly began to come into view.
“What are you doing here?” Clint asked when they were within speaking distance.
Susan didn’t say a word until he had stopped right in front of her and stared down into her eyes. She fought back the tears that threatened to fall once again. “I…I thought you had left me. I thought you had just run off and…and you were never coming back again.”
Clint smiled as Achilles ran circles around them, showing off his speed and athletic prowess. “No,” he said. “I did it right this time…I got permission from Michele to move on.”
“But, where are you going? Melvin said you resigned from the police department.”
He smiled and his eyes sparkled. “I did resign, but I’m not going anywhere. I resigned so we can be together.”
Without saying another word, he stepped forward and wrapped his strong arms around her and pressed his lips firmly to hers.
CHAPTER 56
One year later…
Sunday, September 25
Susan was already talking to the couple when I arrived at the boat launch and exited my pickup. The couple looked young—early twenties, maybe—and it was obvious they’d been enjoying a day on the water. The girl wore a skimpy bikini and her boyfriend had on a pair of boardshorts, and they were both bright red from too much sun.
“I swear to God,” the man was saying when I walked up. “It’s a dinosaur and it lives in the water!” He wiped his face and nodded. His eyes were wide. “We were fishing and it just floated on by like it didn’t even care that we were there.”
“Could it have been an alligator?” Susan asked.
“No way!” said the woman next to him. “It was too big.”
“How big was it?” I asked, shoving a hand in the back pocket of my jeans. I’d responded to dozens of such reports over the past year, but none had panned out. While this one seemed different because the people were terrified, I wasn’t going to get my hopes up.
“It was longer than our boat.” The woman was chewing her nails and drumming her bare foot in the shells. “I thought it was going to flip our boat and eat us.”
The man nodded. “She’s right—it was bigger than my boat, and my boat is fourteen feet long.”
I glanced at Susan, who was standing there in her polyester uniform, an air of authority surrounding her. She had taken to the chief job as naturally as a fish to water. She’d hired two more officers, purchased updated radio equipment, and they were set to move into their new hurricane-proof building by the end of the year.
“Where was it when y’all last saw it?” she asked.
The man described the area and shook his head. “We’re never going back there again, that’s for sure!”
Susan waved for me to follow her and we walked to the far end of the pier, out of earshot of the troubled couple. She hitched her gun belt up on her waist and studied my face. “Do you think it’s Godzator?”
I allowed my eyes to rove over her tan uniform shirt and whispered, “I can’t wait to rip that thing off of you tonight.”
“Clint, stop it!” She looked over her shoulder to make sure the couple hadn’t followed us. “Seriously, do you think it’s him?”
I chuckled and shrugged. “Whatever it was, it scared the shit out of them. I’ll go check it out.”
A smile played at the corners of her mouth and she leaned close to me. “And I can’t wait to rip those jeans off of you.”
As she walked back to the couple and cut them loose, I got in my truck and backed my boat into the water. She came back to the wharf just as I was getting ready to push off.
“You know you don’t have to keep doing this, right?” Susan said. “Someone will eventually get him—it doesn’t have to be you.”
“I let him take Dexter’s arm and then I let him get away.” I frowned. “I’m responsible for everything he does now.”
“But he hasn’t done anything in two years. In fact, he hasn’t hurt anyone since Dexter.”
She was right, but it was something I had to do. When I said that, she just smiled her understanding.
“Just be careful.” She leaned to kiss me goodbye and squeezed my biceps. “The wedding is in two months and I want you carrying me across the threshold with these arms.”
“Don’t worry, love, I’m coming back in one piece, and we’ll have lots of alligator sauce piquant for the reception.” I pushed off and turned the key to start the engine. Once it roared to life, I waved to Susan and headed west toward Lake Berg, revving the engine and smiling as the front of the boat rose gently into the air and the wind began to blow through my hair. I’d spent the last year running swamp tours and I’d grown to love being on the water. Aside from being a great gig, my new job increased the likelihood that I’d locate Godzator and put an end to his reign of terror.
Once I reached the southern tip of Lake Berg, I turned down a small stream that cut it
s way through the swamps to the west. Giant cypress trees shot up from the water and thick clumps of Spanish moss hung from their branches. I surveyed the water all around me, but the surface was completely covered by duckweed. If this was the spot the man had described, there should be a trail through the greenery where his boat had traveled.
I puttered along for several more minutes scanning the surrounding swampland. I was about to turn away when I saw what looked like the beginning of a black path amidst the light green background up ahead.
I immediately shut off the engine and reached for my push pole. Careful not to cause too much of a ripple, I gently eased the pole into the water and strained against it, burying the duck web foot in the soft mud until it met some resistance and moved me forward. One push at a time, I drew nearer and nearer until I was about thirty feet from the black path.
I looked up from one of my pushes and cocked my head sideways. The path through the duckweed seemed to stop about fifteen feet from where it started, as though the boat that made it had been lifted into the air after making contact with the water.
Confused, I drifted closer. I was almost upon it when I realized it wasn’t a path at all, but an actual black object jutting up out of the water. I gasped when the object shifted in the water, lining itself up with my boat. It looked like a giant torpedo waiting to be launched in my direction. That was when I realized I was looking at the enormous body of an alligator—and the head was facing my boat.
I gently placed my push pole down and snatched up my sniper rifle, bringing it smoothly to my shoulder and peering through the scope. I flipped the safety off with my thumb and allowed my crosshairs to come to rest on the spot between the alligator’s eyes. I glanced at the side of the alligator and saw a number of scars from where I’d shot Godzator sixteen times two years earlier. My heart pounded in my chest. I’d finally found him!
