Bayou Betrayal

by Robin Caroll

  He answered on the third. “Anderson.”

  “Hi. It’s Monique.”

  Gary’s hand tightened around his cell. “Hi.”

  He could make out Monique’s harsh breathing over the connection. “I need to apologize to you. I was extremely rude last night and there was no call for the way I acted.”

  “You were stressed, I understand that.”

  “No, there’s more to it than that, but whatever the reason, I shouldn’t have said such things to you, or kicked you out. I’m truly sorry.”

  “It’s okay. I understand.”

  “I don’t want things to be awkward between us now, ya know?”

  “Yeah.” He didn’t want that either, but he wondered if there would ever be an us in regard to the two of them.

  “I had an interesting conversation last night.” Hesitation filled her tone.

  “With whom?”

  “God.”

  His heart lurched. “Oh?”

  “Yeah. I’ve been stupid and ornery.”

  He couldn’t help it; he chuckled.

  She laughed, as well. “You don’t have to agree so easily, ya know.”

  “I’m glad, Monique. Really glad.”

  “Me, too.”

  Should he say anything about his e-mail to the prison in Oakdale? He didn’t want to upset her just yet. There still wasn’t any proof that the attacks against her had anything to do with her father. He hadn’t heard back from the warden this morning, which annoyed him. The Bureau of Prisons, it appeared, didn’t adhere to the same code of responding quickly to law enforcement requests as other branches under the Department of Justice.

  “And I did have a wonderful time on our date.”

  He yanked himself out of his reprieve, not believing she broached the subject he thought she’d avoid. “I did, too.”

  “I’m sorry I ruined it.”

  “You didn’t. You’re the victim. The jerk doing this is the only one who ruined anything.”

  “Well, I wanted to apologize, and to thank you.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. I’m fixin’ to head over to Luc and CoCo’s for brunch.”

  He grinned at her phrasing—already she sounded like she belonged in Lagniappe. That thought alone sent pinpricks of happiness all over him, but he didn’t want to get sidetracked into thinking about how much she meant to him. Not right now. Not until he’d solved her case and put the arsonist away…made sure she was safe again. After that, well, he’d have to figure out what to do, but it’d take a lot of time in prayer.

  “Well, have fun. Tell them both I said hello.”

  “Will do.”

  He closed his cell phone and stared at the computer screen. No time to analyze his love life, or complications thereof. He had a case to crack. He dialed the number for the Oakdale Prison, gave his credentials, asked for the warden and was put on hold. Not even elevator music came behind the distinctive click.

  Bob shuffled into the office doorway. Gary waved him in just as a voice came over the phone.

  “Warden Prikton. How may I help you, Deputy Anderson?”

  “I need some information on a con released from your facility on February third of last year.”

  “Inmate’s name?”

  “Kevin Haynie.”

  Bob’s bushy eyebrows shot up. Gary grinned and nodded.

  “What specifically are you looking for, Deputy?”

  “I need to know if he was a cell mate, or in close contact either through the work programs or guard observations, with an inmate still in your facility. Justin Trahan.”

  Bob’s eyes widened so much Gary thought the man’s eyeballs might pop out. Gary grinned again. Yeah, it was an aha moment.

  “Let me check. I’m looking to see if they were cell mates. As far as guard observations go, that’ll take me some time.”

  “Warden, this is of the utmost importance to an open case I’m working. As fast as you could get the information to me, I’d greatly appreciate it.”

  “Well, they weren’t cell mates, according to the computer records, but they were in the same unit. I’ll check with the guards on duty now. I’ll call you back after I’ve spoken with them.”

  “I really appreciate it.” Gary rattled off the station and his cell phone numbers, then hung up.

  “Haynie and Trahan? That’s an odd combo.”

  “But it’s a viable connection.”

  “So far.”

  “Yeah, but considering we don’t have much else, I’m going with that.”

  Bob grunted. “Seems a lot of leads are comin’ out of the woodwork real quick here.”

  “I need to focus on motive for each of them. If the attacks are related to her husband’s murder case, motive would be to shut her up.” He rubbed his chin. Whiskers met his touch. He’d forgotten to shave this morning.

  “Don’t stress too much about in-depth motive here, Anderson.”

  “Why?” Police procedural rule one: always start with motive.

  “This arsonist, he loves his work. Loves the fire. Is entranced by fire.” Bob leaned the wooden chair back on two legs. “Wouldn’t be surprised if he’d started many other fires and never gotten caught. These kinds of freaks don’t need a whole lot of motive to do what they do.”

  Gary let that information stew for a minute. “But the threats, the calls…that would indicate a deep motive.”

  “True.” Bob dropped all four legs of the chair to the floor and sat straight. “Unless the arsonist isn’t the one making the threats.”

  “It has to be the same person. It all fits.”

  “Unless your arsonist is a freelancer for hire. Then, heaven help us tie it all together.”

  “Glad you could make it.” CoCo hugged her tight. “Come on in, we’re all in the kitchen.”

  Monique followed her hostess through the walkway. “You have a beautiful home.”

  “Thanks. When Luc and I married, we both lived in family homes, which family still needed to live in. We’d found some Confederate coins in my house, and we sold those coins to Confederate museums for the money to build this place.” CoCo chuckled. “It’s a long story, one I’ll have to tell you another time, but we love that it’s right on the bayou so I can still do my job, and it’s almost exactly between his old home and mine.”

  “Well, I can’t wait to hear the story, but your home is wonderful.”

  “Hey.” Felicia stood to hug Monique, followed by Luc and Spence.

  CoCo waved Monique to the chair beside Felicia. “Sit down, sit down.” She almost bubbled with energy. Her smile brought out the true exotic beauty of her Cajun heritage. For a second, Monique wished her hair were any color but the bland auburn she’d inherited from her mother.

  “Luc and I have something very important to tell y’all. We wanted you to share in our joy.”

  “You’re pregnant, yes?” Felicia all but jumped in her seat.

  “Yes! I found out while I was in N’Awlins.”

  Felicia rushed around the table to hug her brother and sister-in-law. “Oh, congratulations. I’m going to be an aunt.”

  Spence clapped Luc’s shoulder. “Congratulations, man.”

  Monique smiled, but couldn’t help have a fleeting thought of her and Kent’s plans to have a family. As quickly as the thought came, it left. With no pain left aching in her heart. Her smile widened. “Congratulations. When are you due?”

  “Early September.” Luc’s eyes shimmered. “We’re so excited.”

  “Have you told Alyssa and Tara?” Felicia asked.

  “They were there when I found out. I got sick and Alyssa’s doctor told me I should run a test.”

  “Oh, how perfect.”

  “And Grandmere’s beside herself.”

  Felicia froze and stared at her brother. “Mom’s not here. Are you not telling her?”

  Luc laughed. “We went by yesterday and told Mom. Figured she’d throw a fit if she found out the same time as everyone else.”


  Felicia giggled. “Bet she’s already ticked that Alyssa and Tara knew first.”

  “Yeah, but we let her know she was in the loop before you.” Luc gently tugged his sister’s hair.

  “I don’t care, I’m just so happy.”

  Monique reveled in the love of her family. She sent up a silent prayer of thanks that God had delivered her to these wonderful people. She looked around the table, amazed at the blessings surrounding her.

  God was so good, even when she didn’t realize it.

  TWENTY-TWO

  “Deputy Anderson.” Missy’s voice burst through the intercom. “A Warden Prikton is on line one for you.”

  Gary snatched up the receiver. “Deputy Anderson.”

  “This is Warden Prikton. I’ve got some information for you on the relationship between Haynie and Trahan.”

  Gripping his pen tighter, Gary nudged his notebook in front of him. “Go ahead.” He poised the pen over the paper.

  “None of the guards I spoke with recall anything between Haynie and Trahan. Of course, some of them aren’t on duty today.”

  Gary’s heart plummeted to his toes.

  “But on instinct, I checked Trahan’s visitor’s log. Wasn’t too long of a list to wade through, to tell you the truth.”

  “And?” Get to the point, man!

  “Over the last two-plus years of incarceration, Trahan’s only had three visitors besides his lawyer. His great-niece, Felicia Bertrand, a Monique Harris and two visits by none other than Kevin Haynie.”

  “Wait a minute—I didn’t think cons could come back and visit inmates.”

  Prikton let out a heavy sigh over the line. “It’s not common for it to happen, but once they’re off parole, it’s hard to keep track of them. According to the records I found this morning, the counselor who approved Haynie on Trahan’s visitors’ list was discharged a couple of months ago.”

  “You couldn’t find him to ask?”

  “Deputy, this is off the record, but we fired him for selling contraband to inmates. It happens in the best prisons.”

  Now it made sense. “When did Haynie visit Trahan?”

  “Let’s see, Haynie was released last February. He visited Trahan once on October tenth of last year, and again on December twelfth.”

  “How long were the visits?”

  “According to the visitor’s log, the one in October lasted three hours and ten minutes. The one in December lasted an hour and forty-five minutes.”

  A sick feeling turned in Gary’s gut. “That’s it?”

  “Well, I spoke with one of the trustees who works in the mail room about the correspondence for Trahan.”

  “And?”

  “He says Trahan and Haynie send letters back and forth. He remembered because that’s the only general mail Trahan gets.”

  “Did he remember anything that was said in the letters?”

  “I asked him. He just said there weren’t any of the trigger words they look out for to return a letter.”

  “So we have no way of knowing what they could’ve been plotting?”

  “I guess not.”

  “I really appreciate your thoroughness and getting back with me so quickly, Warden.” Gary clicked his pen.

  “There’s one more thing you might want to know, Deputy.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Since the Second Chance Act has passed, lots of lawyers have been filing pleas and motions and such to get their older clients out of jail on the early release program. Especially ones with medical conditions.”

  Gary held his breath.

  “Trahan’s lawyer’s one of ’em. According to my notes, Trahan has developed a heart condition and his medical report has been submitted to the committee for consideration of early release to a halfway house under the Second Chance Act.”

  Now Gary thought he’d be ill. “You’re telling me Trahan’s lawyer is trying to get him out early? Surely there’s not a chance of that happening?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m telling you. And that could happen, because of this act.”

  Justin Trahan—double murderer—released into a halfway house? Would the Trahan name and money ever know limits?

  Money…Justin’s trust fund! That explained everything, or at least it could. Now to just find some proof!

  “Did you miss me today, boy?” Monique scratched behind Homer’s ears as he rested his head in her lap. She’d spent the better part of the day with Felicia and CoCo, brainstorming ideas for the baby’s nursery. Though thrilled to be included, she was now exhausted. Sitting in the rocker Gary had given her, she glanced out over the bayou and rested her head against the back of the chair.

  Just as she closed her eyes to doze for a few minutes in the afternoon peace, the shrill of the telephone brought her to her feet. She grabbed the cordless from the bedside table and slunk back into the rocker. “Hello?”

  “You’re a hard woman to find, Mrs. Harris.”

  The vaguely familiar voice caught in her mind, which was filled with sleep-induced cobwebs. “Who is this?”

  He laughed. “Did I wake you? I’m sorry. This is Investigator Walkin in Monroe. The one who handled your husband’s case?”

  Sleep sped from every recess of her mind. She bolted upright. “Yes. I remember.”

  “I had the hardest time finding you. Good thing you have a listed number, and that deputy in Lagniappe called me. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have found you so quickly.”

  She swallowed the sigh. Her new number was supposed to be unlisted. She’d have to call the phone company. “How can I help you?”

  “I wanted to let you know that George Knight has been diagnosed with cancer in prison.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. The man who shot and killed Kent…cancer? “He’s rather young, isn’t he?”

  “Forty-one, so, yeah. And it’s stage four already. Took them a while to diagnose it.”

  In a prison, she could imagine the medical diagnostics and care would be less than ideal. “Oh.”

  What else was she supposed to say? She didn’t even know what she felt right now.

  “The reason I’m calling is because Mr. Knight requested a meeting with me. Said he had more information about your husband’s case.”

  She just bet there was. “And?”

  “Well, it seems you were correct. There was someone else involved in your husband’s murder.”

  She knew it. Always had. “A driver?”

  “Yes. Mr. Knight claims his cousin, Stanton Ogburn, was the driver of the car.”

  “The name doesn’t ring any bells. Should it?”

  “No. As far as we can tell, Mr. Ogburn had no connection to your husband.”

  “He lied to protect his cousin?”

  “So it seems.”

  Frustration held her heart in a vise grip. “So, George Knight still claims the shooting was purely random?”

  “Actually, he’s recanted that. Since he’s dying, he says he’s found God and wants to tell the truth.”

  Hope sparked. “Really?”

  “He now states that he and his cousin were hired to kill your husband and make it look like a drive-by shooting.”

  The air she sucked in turned to lead in her lungs. Her heartbeat thudded in her head, momentarily deafening her. “Who? Why?”

  “Hold on, Mrs. Harris, this is all a dying man’s statement. It’s not fact yet.”

  “Why would he, if he’s dying as you say, make up such a story?”

  “To implicate his cousin. Maybe Ogburn wasn’t even there but Knight’s developed a grudge against him since he’s been in jail. Who knows?”

  But she knew. “I always said someone else was involved.”

  “And we’ll keep looking into that angle.”

  “Who did George Knight say hired them to murder Kent? Why?”

  “He said his cousin was the contact person. Took the money and set up the hit. Knight said he was only cut in on the deal to pull the trigger.”

&
nbsp; “So you don’t have a clue who hired them or why?”

  “Not yet. We’ve got an APB out on Ogburn right now. He wasn’t at the last known address Knight gave us.”

  “But you are following up, right?” Oh, please. Don’t let them drop the ball again. Not when she was so close to the truth. Finally, maybe she could put Kent to rest once and for all.

  And move forward with her life.

  A life that may include a very handsome and sensitive deputy sheriff.

  “Of course. I’ll let you know if we uncover anything.” He paused. “There’s more. From what Knight says, you were supposed to be in the car with your husband.”

  Her stomach tightened. Yes, she’d been working in the office with Kent at that time. But for someone to put a contract out on both of them? Why? She swallowed. “Thank you for telling me.”

  “And I’d appreciate it if you could tell that deputy friend of yours, too. He seems to be quite interested. Even called my supervisor to follow up.”

  “Sure.” Gary had done all that without telling her? No wonder Walkin was calling her, basically asking her to call off the dogs.

  “I appreciate that. Well, that’s all I needed to tell you,” Walkin said.

  “Thank you for calling.”

  “That woman of yours packs a nine mil, did you know?”

  Gary glanced up from his paperwork and narrowed his eyes. “I don’t have a woman.”

  “Yeah. Okay.” Mike chuckled and slumped against the office’s door frame. “Either way, Monique Harris packs a nine mil, and isn’t afraid to use it.”

  Oh, no. What had she done? “What happened?”

  “Last night, I was walking along the back of her property, making sure no one snuck up from the bayou. Guess I made too much noise because out she came, in a fluffy blue bathrobe, and held me at gunpoint until she knew who I was.”

  Man. The woman had guts, he had to give her that. He smiled at the mental image of the little woman with copper curls, holding Mike at gunpoint in her robe.

  “Sure, laugh.” Mike chuckled along. “I’m sure it was quite a funny scene. But, just thought I’d let you know.”