by Matt Hilton
Po didn’t want to accept the possibility. He ran a hand through his hair as he stared down at the coagulated blood. Tess put a hand on his shoulder, kneading it gently. Po finally stood. Shook his head. ‘Until I know otherwise, Emilia’s still alive.’
‘We should call the police,’ Tess said. ‘Something bad happened here, guys. There’s no escaping it.’
‘Call ’em,’ Po said, ‘but not while we’re here. Do it anonymously. We can’t afford to be slowed down by a police investigation.’
‘The police could help us find Emilia quicker.’
‘We still don’t know if she has anything to do with this,’ Po said, and indicated the sticky mess. ‘I’m thinking the blood belongs to the Thibodauxs. There was a fight inside that shack. Someone died on the porch, another out here.’
‘A fallout between the brothers?’ As soon as she suggested it Tess knew she was wrong. ‘If they killed each other, their bodies would still be here. They’ve been moved.’
‘The question is who moved them? I’ve a good idea who that might’ve been.’
‘Zeke Menon,’ said Tess.
‘We can’t be sure,’ Po cautioned, because it was a lot of extrapolation based on unsubstantiated facts around what might be pools of pig’s blood, ‘but it would explain his interest in finding Emilia.’
‘You think she was here when the Thibodauxs were killed?’
He shrugged. ‘I could be totally off track. Maybe she was here before blood was spilled, or maybe she turned up after. But we know from Jason’s roommate that they were coming out here to buy weed, and neither Emilia nor Jason has been seen or heard from since. They witnessed something terrifying enough to send them into hiding. If Menon had a hand in this, he didn’t hurt Emilia at the time. Not if he’s so interested in finding her now. He was at the hospital today for one reason only; you guys stopped him from pressing my mom for her whereabouts. To me that means he’s still looking, and Emilia’s still out there some place.’
‘So I don’t call the police anonymously. Isn’t it best that the police hear about Zeke Menon, and that he might be responsible for what happened here?’
Po nodded. But then changed his mind. ‘We don’t know he had anything to do with this. But we do know he’s chasing Emilia. Maybe for another reason entirely. I’d prefer to ask him why before he’s taken off the street by the cops.’
‘What about the Chatards?’ Pinky asked. ‘What’s their part in this? You don’t think that maybe they brought in Zeke to help find Emilia, the way Clara did with you?’
It was a consideration none of them had entertained before. What if Darius Chatard had hired Zeke Menon to search for her when he couldn’t contact his daughter? There was only one way to find out.
‘I’ve tried to avoid it, but I need to speak with the Chatards too,’ said Po. Tess hung her head at what the foreseeable future promised.
TWENTY-TWO
On the return journey to their motel, Pinky pulled the van across from a gas station and Tess jogged to a payphone at the corner of the building, all of them avoiding the CCTV cameras. She used a tissue to hold the receiver, and another to feed quarters into the slot to ring the local police office, avoiding using the emergency 911 number, which would cause an immediate response from nearby radio cars. Affecting a hokey Southern accent she reported overhearing a disturbance and gave the location of the Thibodaux property. She left things at that, hanging up quickly and trotting back to the van. Because they had no way of knowing whose blood they’d discovered, she thought it best that identifying its source should be left to the professionals. Due to the low-key nature of her call, a cruiser would be dispatched to the scene to follow up on her report but not on lights and sirens, and it would be down to the attending officers to come to their own conclusion about what had occurred and bring in the manpower and equipment necessary for the investigation. She’d covered her moral duty and her ass by alerting the police to suspected foul play, but also bought Po some time for what he had in mind. The latter didn’t sit as easily with her.
Back at the trappers’ camp they’d ensured they’d left few clues as to their attendance, making sure any footprints they made had been obscured and anything they’d touched was wiped down. Their van’s tire tracks they hoped would be buried under those of the responding police cars, but once they were back at the motel, Pinky decided it was time to swap out their transportation and looked into exchanging the van for something less identifiable. While he was gone, Po rang the hospital and asked about Clara. She was sleeping, stable, but still very poorly. He considered hinting that extra security should be placed on her room, but to do so would raise too many questions. He asked Tess to find him Darius Chatard’s phone number, but before she got round to it her phone rang. She recognized the number, but not immediately who it belonged to.
‘Hello?’ she answered tentatively.
‘Is that Tess Grey?’ It was a young woman’s voice, and Tess realized who it was.
‘Yes. Is that Rachel Boreas?’ she countered.
‘Yes, I’m returning your call from earlier. You left a message. You were asking about my friend Emilia Chatard?’
‘I was,’ said Tess. She caught a glimpse from Po, and his mouth opened to speak, but she begged silence with a raised finger. She urged him over so he was close enough to hear the conversation. ‘Rachel, you’re probably wondering who I am and why a private investigator from Maine is interested in finding Emilia. You needn’t worry, it’s a private matter between Emilia and her mom, Clara.’
‘Yes. So you said. You mentioned that Clara is in hospital.’
‘Heart attack,’ Tess confirmed. ‘She’s failing quickly, Rachel. It’s why I need to find Emilia as a matter of urgency.’
‘How do I know it isn’t you Emilia’s hiding from?’ Rachel’s voice held a trace of suspicion, but she wasn’t buying her own accusation. If she thought Emilia was actually running from Tess she wouldn’t have returned her call. Tess picked up the hint of something more important.
‘Why do you think Emilia’s hiding from anyone?’
‘The way she acted when I last saw her.’
‘You saw her in person? When was this, Rachel?’
‘Four days ago. She asked me to tell nobody about picking her up, and I haven’t until now. Tess, it has been tearing me up inside. I’ve been worried to death about her.’
‘Emilia asked you not to tell anyone? Not even her family?’
‘Especially her family.’
‘She was frightened of them finding her?’
‘No. That wasn’t it. She was frightened, but from what she said, and the way she acted, it was more fear for them.’
‘Was she alone, or was she with someone when you saw her?’
‘Alone.’
‘Do you know Jason Lombard?’
‘I know him. He’s a dick. I don’t know what Emilia sees in him. But if you’re asking if Jace was with Emilia, the answer’s no. She was alone. It looked as if she’d spent the night sleeping rough in the swamp.’
‘You said you picked her up, Rachel. Is Emilia still with you?’
‘I got a call from her early morning, asking if I’d collect her from Catahoula. I brought her back to my place, but she wouldn’t stay. From what she said it wasn’t safe for her – or my children – if she stayed with me. I’ve no idea where she’s been since then, and I’ve been on edge worrying about her. Thank God she phoned me earlier.’
‘She called you today?’ Tess offered Po a brief smile and a nod, and she watched him deflate slightly along with a long exhalation of relief. ‘When, where is she?’
‘I wasn’t home to pick up her call, just her voicemail message. She asked for a ride home to New Iberia. She said she needed to get back to her mom urgently. I returned her call and got some old foreign guy. He said Emilia had used the phone in his convenience store and then left before I could call back. He was annoyed that she didn’t buy anything after hogging his phone all that time.’
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‘Do you still have that number?’
‘Right here.’ Tess scribbled it on a notepad. ‘But I don’t think the guy knows anything useful. From what I could tell, Emilia left to make her own way home.’
‘Do you know where the store is?’
‘In Lafayette, but on the north side of town. I’ve no idea why Emilia would be there.’
Tess decided it would be pointless calling the store for its address if Emilia had already set off on her return home. ‘Excuse my ignorance; I’m not from round here. How far is Lafayette from New Iberia?’
‘Twenty-five to thirty miles give or take. Depends on what side of town you’re travelling to … a half-hour in a car maybe? But Emilia was on foot.’
Public transport was available to Emilia, and taxis. Or she could have hitched a ride home.
‘When did Emilia call you, have you a record of the time?’
‘I didn’t check. It was while I was out with the kids at McDonald’s, so early evening. I only checked my messages after I got back, and had missed her at the store, but not by long. I got your message too, and tried calling you earlier, but you must have been somewhere with no signal.’
Tess cursed under her breath. Rachel had been trying to call while they’d been out in the swamp. She hadn’t checked for missed calls being otherwise engaged with making the anonymous call to the police, and then getting tied up with Pinky’s plan for alternative transportation and then Po ringing the hospital about his mom.
‘So it’s reasonable to say that Emilia could be back in New Iberia now,’ she said.
‘Easily,’ Rachel said. ‘From what she was asking about a ride, I think she’d have gone directly to the hospital to see Clara.’
That’s what Tess thought too. It was also where she and Po should go without delay. She thanked Rachel, and assured her she’d call and let her know that Emilia was fine as soon as she found her. ‘Forget ringing Darius for now,’ she told him, ‘we need to get Pinky back here and over to the hospital.’
TWENTY-THREE
The tap of Zeke’s heel on the floorboards was like the constant tock-tock of a metronome. The sound wasn’t distracting, it soothed him, helped him clarify his thoughts. He was sitting in an old office chair, his right leg crossed over his left. His arms were folded across his chest and the peak of his lucky ball cap was pulled low on his forehead. His smile was faint, but cruel. Directly opposite him, Emilia Chatard watched him over the top of the duct tape that still concealed most of the bottom half of her head. The breath rasping through her nostrils was in time with the rhythm he’d set with his tapping heel. Her cheeks were streaked with tears and dirt, her forehead blanched of colour, and her turquoise eyes burned, feverish with terror. Each time his boot heel rapped the floor, her eyelids twitched. The sound wasn’t half as soothing to her. He uncrossed his legs and settled his feet firmly, leaned forward so that his elbows were on his knees. Halting the slow torture wasn’t a consideration on her behalf.
‘I bet you’re wondering why you’re still alive?’
Emilia didn’t answer. She couldn’t.
‘You saw something you shouldn’t have,’ Zeke went on. ‘You can’t be allowed to tell anyone.’
Emilia said something behind her gag. It was a garbled moan.
‘I guess you’re trying to convince me you’ve told nobody. I believe you. But you won’t convince my employers that will always be the case. They’re not as confident in your trustworthiness as I am.’
Emilia moaned again.
‘You don’t believe I’m being honest? I am. I can see that you’re terrified of the consequences; I know that you wouldn’t go telling tales because of what will happen. But those guys, with their nice suits and two-hundred-dollar haircuts, they don’t believe the integrity of poor white trash like me and you.’ Zeke wiped his mouth with the back of his wrist. He placed his arm back on his thigh, leaned closer. His face crinkled in pleasure. ‘Then again, maybe you have a good right not to trust me. I’m a killer, right? You witnessed the aftermath of what I did to the Thibodaux brothers. How can you trust the word of a killer?’
He stood sharply, his palms cracking loudly on his jeans.
‘I’ll tell you why.’
He walked around her. Emilia was sitting in a chair too, but hers was a thing of metal tubes and pre-formed plastic. Her arms were bound behind her, secured to the back legs of the chair with more duct tape. Her ankles were secured to the front legs. She remained gagged, the balled socks still behind the duct tape, but she had freedom to move her head. She didn’t follow his progress. She allowed her head to shy away from him, digging her chin into her sternum.
Zeke curled his fingers over the back of the chair and leaned close, so his lips were alongside her right ear. ‘You can trust me because I’ve no reason to lie to you, Emilia. See, I warned what would happen if you mentioned a thing about what you witnessed. I’m happy that you’ve upheld your side of the bargain, and you know what, I’m happy to uphold mine.’
He stood and walked away. He faced a blank wall of the small windowless room.
‘But there we have a contradiction. Right?’ He turned to observe her and saw that she hadn’t moved. She was still curled forward in her chair. ‘I’ve told you conflicting messages, so can see how you might be confused. But hey, stick with me and I’ll explain.’
Again he strolled past her, approached his original chair but didn’t sit. He used the back of the chair to lean on so he could bend and meet her gaze. Fresh tears had welled, making cleaner tracks down her exposed but dirty skin.
‘You upheld our bargain,’ Zeke went on, ‘and I’ve upheld mine. You didn’t speak about me to anyone, so I haven’t killed you, and I haven’t touched your family. But here’s the quandary. I’ve recently received further instruction from my employers, and they are explicit in their instructions that you disappear. The new bargain trumps ours, Emilia. So you see, you have to die, despite obeying my previous warning to the letter. You, my girl, have to go and join your boyfriend out in the swamp.’
Emilia quaked. Her head shook as if with palsy. Her words were muffled.
Zeke snorted at her. Even if her pleading words weren’t distorted out of shape by the gag, they’d have been a waste of breath.
He thrust the office chair aside, and it clattered against the nearest wall. Zeke straightened, and adjusted the brim of his cap.
‘It’s pointless struggling against the inevitable,’ he said. ‘The question is how you’re going to die.’ He deliberately edged back the front of his denim jacket, and watched her eyes widen at sight of the knife hilt jutting from a sheath on his hip. ‘There’s the quick, silent method, or I can call Cleary back in here.’ He grinned maliciously, and then clacked his teeth together with the same metronome rhythm as he’d tapped the floor before. Now Emilia reared back in her seat, her head whipping side to side. Zeke chuckled, pleased with the result.
Suddenly he planted the heel of a palm to his forehead. ‘Oh, wait! What a dummy I am. I can’t kill you yet. There’s more I want to explain to you.’
Emilia stared at him. He watched a bubble of mucus pop in her right nostril. Her gaze was anything but bemusement at his antics, but he didn’t care. The play-acting was for his amusement. Tormenting her was far more enjoyable than simply taking the edge of his knife across her throat, although that was a prospect he looked forward to.
‘I went to see your momma today,’ he announced glibly.
Emilia bolted high in her chair, and this time her cry was barely deafened by the gag. The chair rocked to and fro.
‘Hey, settle down. I didn’t do her any harm. In fact, I didn’t get to even say hi. See, she already had some other visitors. Do you know who Nicolas Villere is?’
Emilia was suddenly silent. Her gaze now intensified with other emotions.
‘Oh, that’s right,’ Zeke grinned. He creased the bill of his cap, resettled it on his brow. ‘Of course you know who he is. He’s the guy who killed two of y
our big brothers, right? It got me to wondering: what the hell was Nicolas Villere doing at your momma’s bedside? But then I remembered something I heard way back. Your momma is also his momma. I thought I came from a dysfunctional family, but let me tell you girl, yours takes the biscuit. Villere is your momma’s son, but he’s your father’s worst enemy. Ol’ Darius hates him so much he’s willing to pay to have Villere killed. And can you just guess who he went and gave the job of killing Villere to?’ He placed fingers to his chest, as if he couldn’t believe it either. ‘Now how is that for an unexpected kicker?’
Moving within a few feet of her, he crouched, resting the heels of his palms on his knees. ‘Do you believe in karma, Emilia? See I never placed much faith in all that Eastern voodoo bullshit, that our lives are preordained. But certain recent events have kinda got me challenging my faith. Who’d’ve thought that such random and diverse events surrounding the laying of a new pipeline would bring everything together in such a neat bundle as this? Makes me wonder if indeed there’s a greater power at work, y’know? Hmm, I can tell you think I’m nuts. You don’t lay any credence in any of it. Well let me tell you …’
The door rattled, and swung open.
Wayne Tyson glanced once at the back of Emilia’s head, before his gaze found Zeke, where he crouched before her.
‘What?’ Zeke demanded.
‘Keane wants you.’
‘Doesn’t he know I’m busy? Tell him I’ll call him back.’
‘He isn’t on the phone, Zeke. He’s here. Wants to see you urgently. He looks worried, man.’ Tyson also looked worried. He chewed at his bottom lip, making his sculptured beard bob up and down. He held Zeke’s gaze for a moment longer, before he blinked and looked away.
