"Francois?" asked Nick.
"Frank; Cap’n Guidry," answered Charlie. "And that’s another thing; call him Cap’n, not Captain, Skipper, Mr. Guidry, and definitely not, Francois. He hates that. I call him Frank, but that’s his son’s name, and he’ll be along, too. He don’t go nowhere without Junior. Just as well, too; that boy’s as good as they come to knowing that swamp. Only his Daddy knows more about the wetlands than he does, so you’ll be in good company."
"Not a problem," said Nick. "So when do we set this up?"
"Already set up," answered Dean. "They’re gonna meet you tomorrow at the boat launch over by Bayou Pigeon Road. I’ll pick you up early, say around six, and we’ll ride out there together, so you don’t get lost."
With that, the two deputies finished their beers and left. They made no mention of Nick’s hanging back awhile. The men figured he had some catching up to do with his highschool sweetheart. Nick left the table and found a spot at the bar. He waited for the crowd to thin so he would get a chance to talk to Marie again. Before his chance came, he felt a sharp slap on his back and looked around in time to see a drunken Ronnie Savoy standing at his side.
"Long time no see, Nicky," Ronnie shouted out. "How’s things goin’?"
"Hello, Ronnie," Nick answered.
"Sorry to hear ‘bout your Mama. I heard she was a good woman. A good maid, too, as I understand it. One of my cousins used to rave ‘bout what a bang-up job she did with the tile floors in her bathroom," Ronnie laughed.
"You’re exactly how I remembered you," stated Nick. "Same ol’ prick as in high school."
"Coo-wee! A prick you say?" Ronnie said with a feigned sense of indignation. "I see you still sore ‘bout me stealin’ your girl. Come on now, that be a long time ago, couyon. Ain’t you got over that yet? Don’t matter now, no how. We ain’t together no more. She’s a real bitch to live with; I did you a favor."
"Well merci beaucoup," Nick said sarcastically. "As much as I’d love to sit here and catch up on old times, I think I’m going to get going; some of us have to work in the morning. You be careful driving, Ronnie. I’d really hate to hear about anything bad happening to you."
"Same ol’ Nicky," said Ronnie. "Always taking off, abandoning people. You ran out of town when Marie dumped you; you ran out on your Mama, leaving her all alone to fend for herself. Never even came to see her as she withered away over there at St. Gabriel’s. Ran out on your whole city, too, when the floods came. I heard ‘bout you goin’ out in dem swamps to look for dem people. You hated the swamp; I’m sure you still do. I wouldn’t take you out there. I’m sure you gonna jet out of there soon as there’s trouble, leave everyone else to fend for themselves."
"Think what you will, Ronnie," Nick said. "Thinking was never your strong point. Yeah, I left when I had the chance. Ran all the way to college, got a degree, and then I ran all the way to the city for a career. You wouldn’t know a thing about that, would you, dumbass? Some people leave, some just have others wish they would. Maybe you should ask Marie about that."
Ronnie ignored Nick’s taunts. He was on a drunken roll. "I hear there’s a monster creepin’ ‘round out there, just waiting for a tasty morsel like you to come ‘round," Ronnie said with glee. "You be sure to think of me when he takes the first bite."
"I’ll do that, Ronnie," answered Nick, "and I’ll tell the Easter Bunny to leave you an extra chocolate egg while I’m at it, you dumb fucking coonass."
Ronnie stood up like he was going to throw a punch, only to slink away muttering under his breath when Nick met the challenge. Nick turned and walked toward the door, nodding to Marie on the way out. Marie nodded back, much to the dismay of Ronnie, who was sure to berate her with what was left of his drunken rage.
Marie didn’t care; she was used to it. It had been the same ever since they broke up. Ronnie wasn’t going to let her get on with her life as long as he could help it. With the considerable weight his family threw around the parish, it was hard to stop him. Even the sheriff and his boys weren’t able to do much unless Ronnie crossed the line, and Ronnie just pushed up close to the line.
Marie sighed; such was her life, but she had worse things on her mind. She overheard enough to know Nick was going out in the swamp. Ronnie had been right. Nick hated the swamp. He’d be lost out there. Marie had heard the stories about the creature that was hunting people. She didn’t want to believe them, but there was something going on. Everyone had been talking about it for months. Now, Nick was going right into the belly of the beast. Maybe he wasn’t scared, but Marie was terrified.
Chapter Seventeen
Cap’n Guidry
Dean picked up Nick at six a.m. sharp, and they set out for the Bayou Pigeon boat launch. It was important to catch Cap’n Guidry and son early, as the two weren’t going to be waiting around for any length of time for law enforcement to show up when there were important things to do. They made their life fishing and hunting for gators in the swamp, and any time wasted on dry land was money out of their pockets. When Dean and Nick showed up, the two were already preparing for the day’s hunt.
"Coo-wee, if it ain’t Deputy Dean Arceneaux!" exclaimed Cap’n Guidry.
"Cap’n," answered Dean. "Mighty fine to see you again."
The two men shook hands, and Dean nodded toward the teenager packing the boat.
"Is that the young'un?" asked Dean.
"Sure is," Guidry answered, "but not so young any more. Soon enough he be gettin’ his own boat, and ‘fore long, his own family to follow."
The men nodded in unison.
"So, who’s your podna?" the Cap’n asked nodding toward Nick.
"This here is Detective Nicholas Vizier," Dean answered.
The men shook hands and introduced themselves.
"Vizier?" Guidry recollected. "I remember meeting a Vizier or two in my time. Any chance you from ‘round here?"
"Yes, sir," Nick explained. "My family’s been living in the area for generations. I grew up around here myself, before I went away to college."
"College?" Cap’n asked rhetorically. "Dat’s good. Local college or out-of-state?"
"LSU," Nick answered with pride.
"Coo-wee, a tiger in our presence! Dat’s good indeed. Charlie tells me you needin’ a guide to help search for dose missin’ kids. I gotta tell you, dey not goin’ to be easy to find."
"No, sir, I suppose they ain’t," Nick agreed. "But the way I see it, we owe it to their folks to do everything we can to bring them home."
The men nodded in silence. They appreciated the effort their fellow countrymen went to in order to help them out after the terrible storms devastated the area. The sacrifices those children made were not to be forgotten.
"According to Charlie," Guidry said, "dey got lost looking for da St. Pierre clan. Dat was dere first mistake. Even I would have a hard time finding dere place, and I been livin’ here my whole life. We better start by askin’ Jean Landry. His family is da closest t’ing to neighbors da St. Pierres had."
"Yep," Dean said, "that’s what everyone says. Still, I doubt that Jean is going to tell us much of anything, much less take us out there. We were hoping maybe you could have a word with him."
"Yep, I reckon you right ‘bout dat," Guidry replied. "No problem. We can head over dere right now. It’s not too far away and, with any luck, we just might catch him ‘fore he heads out for da day."
Dean excused himself, saying how he had some important errands to attend to and Cap’n Guidry instructed his boy to stay put and finish getting the boat prepared for when he returned. Nick got into Guidry’s truck, and the two men headed down the road toward the Landry place. It was only a few miles up the road, and the pair arrived within minutes. Guidry instructed Nick to stay in the truck while he talked to Jean.
Nick watched as Cap’n Guidry walked up to the tidy little house and knocked. A woman came to the door and pointed around the side; then Guidry strolled around the corner where a middle-aged man in overalls and a fishing ca
p greeted him.
Nick saw the two men chatting amicably for a few minutes before the other man visibly tensed up and turned his back on Guidry in an effort to dismiss him. Cap’n Guidry stood his ground, awkwardly glancing toward Nick for a moment before turning back and trying to engage Jean in conversation. It looked to Nick as if the two were on the verge of a heated argument; then there was a moment of silence between them. After a brief interlude, Jean appeared to be giving the Cap’n directions before seemingly pleading with him in desperation. Guidry nodded at the man before the two parted, and the Cap’n made his way back to the truck.
"So?" Nick asked as the men drove back toward the boat launch.
"Well, just as I figured. He’s not ‘bout to take us out dere," Guidry replied. "He was adamant ‘bout not wantin’ us to go. He said dere was no reason. He told me he and da boy went out dere after da storm to check up on da St. Pierre’s and dere wasn’t a soul in sight. He hesitated a bit when he told me, and I asked him ‘bout it. Den he got angry and told me he didn’t want to talk ‘bout it. I pressed him, and he said he saw something out dere, but wouldn’t say what. He refused to talk ‘bout it. I let it go, den reminded him dat dere were kids missin’ out dere dat we were obligated to go look for. He said he understood, but we’re just wasting our time. He said whatever is out dere, we don’t want to find it, and he advised us not to go lookin’ for it. I told him we had to, and he just nodded. Finally, he told me more or less how to get dere. He begged me not to go, but I guess he knows we goin’ anyway."
"Do you think you’ll be able to find it?" Nick asked.
"Yeah, I reckon’ so," answered Guidry, "but it won’t be easy. Da St. Pierres lived at some place called Bayou Noir, way, way deep in the swamp. Probably have to be right up on it to even see it. Still, I’m guessing we can find it sure enough. We’ll have to prepare properly ‘fore we head out dere. Dat is, if you still want ta go."
"I do," Nick replied. "How long before you think we’ll be ready?"
"Two, t’ree days, I guess," answered Guidry. "I’ll put together a list of supplies we’ll need, including some dat your department will have to supply. We’ll also need at least another boat, maybe two, and some help."
"Why so many?" Nick asked.
"Where we’re goin’ is way out dere. Whole trip might take a couple of days. Dat means more supplies, and means we’ll be overnight in da swamp. Night is not a good time to be out dere, but dat’s where we’ll be. We’ll have to be ready for anything we might come across. Dere’ll be no one we can call for help if we need it. Cell phones ain’t gonna work where we’re goin’. Even if dey did, ain’t much chance anyone’s gonna find us even if dey wanted to. On top of dat, I doubt anyone’s gonna be too anxious to go out dere no how. Nope, we’ll be on our own."
"Yeah, I figured as much," Nick said. "What kind of supplies do you think I’ll need on my end?"
"Body bags," answered Guidry. "Thick, heavy-duty body bags. If we find anything dey’ll not be in da best of shape. Between da heat, da water, and da critters, dey’ll be a might ripe. We ain’t gonna be too happy ‘bout sharing da boats with dem corpses unless we can bag ‘em up tight. Might wanna bring a few extras too, just in case."
"In case of what?" Nick asked.
Cap’n Guidry didn’t answer. Their truck pulled back up to the boat launch, and the two stepped out. Guidry went back to prepare for the day’s hunt before calling back over to Nick.
"One of dem boys over dere will give you a ride back to town," Guidry said, pointing to a group of amateur fisherman hanging out in the parking lot. "I’ll have Frank send over a copy of da supply list so y’all can get da requisition orders. Tell Bobby I’ll put together six or seven crew members on my end and a couple of boats, but he’ll have to pay for it. Tell him no squabbling over da price either; it ain’t gonna be cheap. Nobody’s wantin’ to go out dere unless dey’re being properly rewarded. He’ll bitch and complain, be prepared, but he’ll go along with it. He ain’t got no choice."
Chapter Eighteen
Preparing for the Hunt
Frank Guidry, Jr. dropped off an extensive supply list, along with a tentative itinerary and possible recruits to aid in the search. Just as Cap’n Guidry predicted, Sheriff Galliano was dismayed at the size and expense of the project. He cursed and bitched and, in the end, relented to their demands. Sheriff Bobby repeated at every opportunity how much he expected results and how Nick’s job, and even career, was on the line if things didn’t go as planned.
Nicholas knew that things were now officially out of his control, and no matter what the outcome, he would probably be looking for another job in the near future. Visions of his ill-fated stent in the Internal Affairs Division over in Orleans Parish repeatedly crept into his head, and Nick tried to dismiss his feelings of impending doom as best he could. At this point, even the best outcome wasn’t going to settle his nerves much. Pulling rotting corpses out of the swamp and notifying bereaved family members was always unpleasant. What the hell was he thinking, moving back home, anyway? There were multiple good reasons why he’d left in the first place, and Nick could see that there were many more that would be added to the list before long. He wondered how the weather in San Diego was at that particular moment.
The next couple of days were hectic. Requisition forms had to be filled out, corrected, refilled out, and filed. Supplies had to acquired, including the heavy-duty body bags that were requested. This aspect of their endeavor made Nick shudder. It brought the goal of their mission into focus. They were officially searching for missing persons; unofficially, they were retrieving the bodies of dead children. With the expense and sheer effort their duties required, Nick was forced to hope that he would be bringing those bags back full. Inwardly, he prayed that he wouldn’t be filling any of the ‘extra’ bags they were bringing along ‘just in case’.
Cap’n Guidry was busy on his end, seeing to the supplies, and recruiting boats and men to help with the search. A small number of possible searchers backed out, even with the extra hazard pay that was being offered. In the end, they procured two boats and five men, not including Cap’n Guidry, Frank, Jr., and Nicholas. It seemed like overkill to Nick to involve such a large amount of resources, but he kept his mouth shut. He was the only one of the bunch who had no experience and no business heading out into the swamp, and he knew it. Realizing that they’d be spending a night or two in the deep, dark recesses of the Atchafalaya Swamp was something that he preferred not to dwell on. Knowing that he was being surrounded with only the best and bravest of alligator hunters in the vicinity made Nick feel a measure of comfort for the time being.
Once the supplies were procured and last-minute arrangements finalized, they all agreed to leave the following morning at sunrise. The more daylight they were able to use, the less chance they would be forced to spend the night hours in the wetlands, which was preferable to everyone involved. Nick packed what few supplies he was bringing in waterproof bags and stowed them into his pack, which he intended on securing to the boat. He brought a couple of extra clips of ammo for his forty-caliber Glock that he put in a waterproof container to keep in his jacket. The handgun itself was not going to leave his side.
After going over everything twice, Nick poured himself a shot of Jack Daniels and sat back in his recliner, trying to relax enough to get at least a few hours of sleep before sunrise. He was going to need every bit of energy he had over the next few days, but even so, he knew he’d be lucky to get more than a few minutes of rest before dawn. He took another swig of his bourbon and sighed. Just what was he getting himself into? An unexpected knock at the door made him jump. Curious as to who would be coming around his place so late at night, Nick put his firearm out of sight and stumbled to the door to greet his unexpected visitor.
"Marie?" said Nick.
"Hi, Nick," Marie replied. "I’m sorry to come over here so late. If you’re already in bed, I can come back another time."
"No, that’s okay. Won’t you come
in?"
Nick stood aside to let Marie pass and then closed the door.
"Come on in. I’ll pour you a drink."
Marie sat down on the sofa and fumbled nervously with her purse. Nick poured her a small glass of bourbon and sat beside her.
"So, what’s on your mind?" he asked.
"You. You’re on my mind, Boo," answered Marie. "Ever since you came back, I’ve been thinking about you. To tell you the truth, I never stopped thinking about you, even from way back in high school. Oh, Nick, I’m so sorry for what I’ve done. I can’t believe what a mess I’ve made of things."
"It’s okay, Marie. High school was a long time ago. We’ve both gotten on with our lives since then."
"Yeah, well at least you have. I can’t get on with mine. Ronnie won’t let me. He hounds me and harasses me every chance he gets. I wish I’d never met him. And now, you’re back."
"I’m back for now, Marie. There’s no telling how long I’ll be around before I’m out of here again. There’s some truth to what Ronnie said the other night. I do have a history of abandoning those around me."
"Come on, Nick. Don’t let anything Ronnie said get to you. He’s just jealous of you -- always has been, always will be. No, you left because you had good reason to, just like you came back because you had to."
"I should’ve come back a long time ago, Marie, but I didn’t. Now, I only hope it’s not too late."
"Too late for what, Nick?"
Nick sat back for a moment and took another sip of his Jack Daniels. He gathered his thoughts for a moment before continuing.
"It’s already too late for my mom. It’s too late to keep those kids from getting lost in the swamp; maybe even too late for us."
"Too late for us?" Marie asked.
"I’m heading out in the morning to look for those kids. I’ll only be gone a day or two, but depending on what I find, I might not be welcome to hang around. It’ll be like finding a needle in a haystack, and I can’t come back empty-handed. I’m sure I’ll be shown the door in short order. Things aren’t really looking good, I’ll have to admit."
Billy: A Tale Of Unrelenting Terror Page 9
