The Darkest Night

by Rick Reed

  Kurtis shot Jack a grateful look, but his hands were still clenched on the stack of papers.

  Guidry seemed to calm down. He said, “Sorry if I was insensitive. I’m just mad about my detective’s death. And I guess I’m worried about this kid here too. No one wants to see a kid run into the street and get hit by a Mack truck.”

  Kurtis said glumly, “I’m going to be suspended pending a review by the City Safety Board. Chief Whiteside is the head of the Safety Board, so it’s going to happen. But I’ll do what I can to help you guys until that happens.”

  Guidry said, “If that bitch fires you, I’ll give you a job here. I can see why Barbie would hang himself.”

  Jack said, “Speaking of hanging. We don’t think Officer Barbierre’s death was a suicide.”

  Guidry’s eyebrows rose.

  Jack described what he knew about Cotton Walters’s murder, and Barbie’s hanging. He told Guidry about their talks with Detective Parnell. He ended with Troup flagging them down and making unveiled threats.

  Guidry’s range of expressions changed like a Rubik’s Cube, but settled on a wicked grin at the mention of Bobby Troup.

  Jack asked, “Did I say something funny?”

  “You boys don’t worry yourselves about Troup. I got something for him.”

  Liddell asked straight-faced, “Does it involve two alligators, a rope, and a concrete block walking into a bar?” Even nervous Kurtis had to smile.

  Guidry slapped a hand on the table and said, “By God, you’re a hoot, Blanchard. Ain’t he a hoot? You should come back and work for me.”

  Before Liddell could jump ship, Jack asked, “I take it you have something for us, and that’s why you called?”

  “You go first, young man,” Guidry said to Kurtis. “I mean Officer Dempsey,” he added, and shot a look at Jack.

  Kurtis stood and approached the table. “If I may,” he said and laid the thick stack of papers on the table. “This is what I could find for you.” He ruffled the papers with a thumb, stopping periodically to tell them what he had in the pile.

  When he was done, Jack was thinking that if PPD fired Kurtis he’d try to get the Evansville Police Department to recruit him. Kurtis and Sergeant Walker working together would kick some crime scene butt.

  Kurtis had brought printouts of dispatch logs—calls for service—covering the last two months. The majority of Barbie’s police activities were self-initiated, meaning Barbie had called dispatch to report things like traffic stops, checking a suspicious person, or finding lost property, etc.

  Liddell flipped through the pages and asked Kurtis, “Are there pages missing?”

  “No sir,” Kurtis said.

  “What is it, Bigfoot?” Jack asked.

  Liddell handed the sheets to Jack and said, “There’s no dispatch record of Barbie being sent to Bitty’s. He didn’t tell dispatch he was out of the car there, or that he was bringing in a prisoner.”

  Jack flipped the pages of the log. “There doesn’t seem to be any time missing.” The dispatch log notation that Liddell was talking about was for Edward-54. Jack assumed that was Barbie’s radio number. Barbie had said, “I’ll be 10-19 with one prisoner for lockup.” That was at o-seven-o-three hours, and it gave an arrival time of about twenty minutes later.

  Jack laid the log sheets back on the table. “I see where Crime Scene was requested to go to Bitty’s address, but I don’t see where a detective was dispatched. How did Troup get there?”

  Kurtis raised his shoulders and said, “Those are the logs I got from dispatch. Maybe Barbie just happened to be around there. He and Troup are tight. He might have called Troup on the cell phone.”

  Liddell spoke up. “Barbie works the east side of town, doesn’t he?” Bitty’s was on the west side.

  Kurtis offered, “Barbie didn’t particularly pay attention to sectors. That’s why we called him Robocop.”

  Jack perused the log. Barbie showed no activity both before and after locking Liddell up. Nothing. Jack flipped to the date and time Troup and Barbie had stopped them the night Liddell was released. Nothing. Barbie hadn’t let dispatch know he was out of the car where his body was found. Jack wanted to question Officer Rahm as to why he had begun his search for Barbie in that particular neighborhood, but that kind of question would stir up more shit.

  Kurtis had also checked the soil and fiber material.

  “I took it to LSU. That’s Louisiana State University,” Kurtis said for Jack’s sake. “The white stuff in the dirt is sulfometuron methyl. It’s an herbicide, but it also makes the plants mature and ripen faster.”

  “What kind of plants?” Jack asked.

  “He’s talking about sugarcane, pod’na,” Liddell said.

  “The fiber and dirt is stuff you’ll find just about everywhere on farmland.”

  Jack asked, “Can you pinpoint where any of this came from?”

  Kurtis glared at him as if he hadn’t been listening. “That’s what I’m telling you,” he said. “Most of it is crop dusted in early August. But this was applied as a liquid.”

  “How does that help us, Kurtis?” Jack asked.

  Guidry spoke up. “It means we can narrow down where these chemicals were bought, when, and by who. If we know who, it might point to one particular area.”

  Kurtis said, “That is correct, but we have the problem of who had this stuff on their boots. I checked Officer Barbierre’s boots and they had mud from outside the house and other grit. But Barbierre’s boots didn’t drag this chemical inside.”

  “Too bad we can’t check Parnell’s boots,” Liddell said. “She was wearing an identical brand of boot to Barbie’s when we spoke to her this morning. In fact, she has sugarcane growing on her property.”

  “Half the officers in the Parish wear the same brand boot. Either Browning or Wolverine,” Guidry said. “I don’t mean to rain on your parade, but have you noticed what’s grown around here?”

  Kurtis perked up. “But if we can narrow it down to one or two plantations and cross-reference that with runs made by officers, we can at least get a list of suspects.” To the Sheriff, he said, “That is, if you guys still think the killer might be law enforcement.”

  Guidry said, “It’s a start, Kurtis. Good thinking. Get with your brother and see what you guys can come up with.”

  Jack was going to ask about the boot print found on Bitty’s back door, but Kurtis hadn’t worked that scene and hadn’t brought it up, so he wouldn’t have that information. And now they couldn’t get it. “Before we get ahead of ourselves, I have another question for Kurtis,” Jack said.

  “I didn’t forget, Detective Murphy. I have a friend at the State Lab who’s working on the hair evidence you gave me. He’ll do it on the QT unless the shit hits the fan. If that happens he said he’ll throw me under the bus like any good friend would do.”

  Guidry’s hands bunched and un-bunched. “The head of the State Lab is awful friendly with Chief Whiteside. Maybe some distant relative.”

  That reminded Jack of a not-quite-politically-correct joke he’d heard around the police station. If you get divorced in Kentucky, are you still brother and sister? Of course Kentucky could be replaced by any state in the South if you lived in the North.

  Liddell said, “Speaking of relatives, Sheriff, can you find out if Dusty has a relative living across the lake from her house?”

  “I’ll ask Jon to look,” Kurtis offered and left the room.

  Guidry’s eyebrows rose. “Important?”

  “Just a question,” Liddell said.

  Jon Dempsey came back with Kurtis. Jon said, “One of you asked if Detective Parnell has a relative across the lake from her residence, but she doesn’t have any family. She has no siblings, and her mother and father are both deceased. If one of her parents was married before and she has stepsiblings, it isn’t in her personnel files. I can try to find out if it’s important.”

  “So, she lied again,” Jack said.

  Liddell explained, “Someon
e took off through the back on a dirt bike when we got to Dusty’s this morning. She said it was her nephew that lived across the lake.”

  Guidry said, “Damned woman. I won’t tolerate liars. I told her that.”

  To Jon Dempsey, he said, “Get Parnell in here. And I mean right now. And this time if I tell you that I’ll do it—ignore me.”

  Jon left and Kurtis took a seat.

  “Any idea who we might’ve seen leaving her house?” Jack asked Guidry.

  “Not a damn clue,” Guidry said. “Maybe it was a girlfriend.”

  “Would she have lied to us about that?” Jack asked. “She told us she’s a lesbian. Why hide?”

  “Damned if I know. It seems I don’t know Detective Parnell quite as well as I thought I did. I can tell you this though. This shit is going to come to an end.” Guidry had made a fist on top of the table and spread the fingers, placing the palm down. “I’ll squash her like a bug. The truth will set you free,” he said and snorted. “Well, dishonesty will get you fired.”

  Jon came back, knocked, and stuck his head in the door. “She’s not answering her phone, Sheriff Guidry.”

  “Try the damn radio,” Guidry said.

  “She’s not answering her radio either, Sheriff. Dispatch has been trying to reach her. They have a missing person. She’s not responding.”

  Guidry slammed a hand on the table. “Well shit fire and save the matches!”

  * * *

  Before Jack and Liddell left they asked Sheriff Guidry for permission to go through Bitty’s desk and locker and computer. Guidry added Dusty’s things to that and told Jon to get them anything they asked for.

  Jack was going through desk drawers while Liddell tried to get into Bitty’s computer.

  “Password protected,” Liddell said. Jon shrugged.

  “Call Angelina,” Jack suggested.

  Liddell called Angelina and she walked him through it, but each folder was encrypted. She walked him through the process of sending it all to her. When the files were on their way, Angelina said, “I’m sorry about your friend. I didn’t get to ask before, but how are you doing?”

  “I’m fine, Angelina. Just fine. Never better.”

  “Liar,” she said. “What’s it like being back home?”

  “Well, I’ve been arrested, abused, Tasered, and shot at and threatened by the police. I’d say it’s been a full experience,” he said half-jokingly. “To be honest, I think I’ve missed it here and missed my brother. But with all that’s going on I haven’t had time to take it all in. A lot has changed.”

  “Tasered? Shot at?”

  “It’s a long story,” he said. “On top of this, my fourteen-year-old niece is missing. I think the reason I’m not in jail is everyone is afraid of Jack. He’s like Superman.”

  “Bullets bounce off him,” she said.

  “Kryptonite fears him.”

  “And he’d like you to get back to work,” Jack said in the background.

  “Let me talk to him,” Angelina said, and Liddell handed Jack the phone.

  Jack took the phone. “He doesn’t need any encouragement, Angelina.”

  “I just wanted to tell you some of the stuff I found,” she said.

  Jack had known Angelina long enough to tell when something was bothering her. He hoped there wasn’t trouble in paradise. Maybe she was arguing with the soon-to-be hubby? If something was wrong, she’d tell him when she was ready.

  Jack said, “Let me get a piece of paper. My memory is not getting better with age.”

  That got a chuckle out of her. “Yeah. You talk like you’re an old-timer but you have a mind like a computer, Jack. You just don’t know how to operate it.”

  Now it was his turn to laugh. She was happy, so whatever was bugging her wasn’t too bad.

  He took out his notebook and pen. “Go,” he said, and she did.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  The Crown Vic hurtled down Highway 1. Liddell had a hand on the dash and one gripping the armrest. “I never thought I’d say this, but slow the hell down, pod’na.”

  Jack could feel adrenaline pumping through his body. His heart beat a steady rhythm, but his hands and arms felt like they could crush a rock. Nevertheless, he forced himself to ease up on the gas. He was down to twenty above the posted speed limit when a Sheriff’s SUV hurtled past them.

  “Guidry?” Jack asked. They had come by so fast he hadn’t seen who was driving.

  “Who else?” Liddell answered. “You might as well catch up to him. The state he’s in, he’ll kick her door down and screw all this up.” He tried to imitate Guidry’s voice and said, “Shit fire and save the matches, fellas.”

  Jack had been thinking about doing the same thing at Dusty’s place. He knew in his cop’s mind that Liddell was right. Still, the adrenaline rush was intoxicating. Addictive. And he knew he’d never quit this job. Never be anything else. He loved Katie, and he knew she worried, but this is what he was born for. Bigfoot too.

  Jack had a more sobering thought. He had made a solemn promise to both women that he would keep Liddell out of danger. But nothing about any of this was safe, smooth sailing, easy peasy. But he’d promised.

  Screw that. He stomped the gas and caught up with Guidry as the SUV turned onto Dusty’s road. Jack wouldn’t want to be in Dusty’s shoes when Guidry caught up with her. There wouldn’t be enough left to put in jail.

  He hoped Guidry wouldn’t go charging in and give the store away. He still needed some answers and didn’t think they had enough to make an arrest. Not yet. On the other hand, if they didn’t do something and another murder occurred it would be on them.

  “Remind me, Bigfoot. Dusty told us she and Bitty were planning to move into Dusty’s house, right?”

  “Yep,” Liddell said.

  “And she couldn’t have a nephew, right?”

  “Yep.”

  “Angelina told me that Dusty’s house and land were up for sale months back, so she lied about them moving in together,” Jack said. “How could she be stupid enough to think we’d never find out? And don’t just say ‘Yep’ again. Help me out here.”

  “Do you make Dusty for all of this?” Liddell asked.

  “Well, according to her she was mad at Bitty for two-timing her. We’ve seen people murdered for less.”

  Liddell agreed. It was a fact. “What else did Angelina say?”

  Jack went on autopilot as he drove and related to Liddell the information Angelina had gathered on Barbierre, Troup, Dusty, and Bitty. She was unable to locate anything on Chief Anna Whiteside.

  Barbierre was ex-military, but his MOS—method of service—was a clerk typist. He got an honorable discharge and went to work at a string of private security jobs. At different times he was a bank guard, bouncer, garbage collector, back to bouncer, and on to Plaquemine PD. He had two thousand three hundred and thirteen dollars in the bank, and there were no suspicious deposits or withdrawals. He was just what he appeared to be. A brownnose that liked to carry a gun. Not to mention a Taser cowboy.

  Barbie had opportunity and willingness to kill Bitty and Cotton, but being willing to kill and pulling the trigger were two different things. Barbie was sadistic and a number-one A-hole, but Jack figured him more of a braggart and sadist than a killer. Barbie’s motive to have done these killings would be his desire to gain Troup’s approval.

  On to Bobby Troup. Angelina told him pretty much what he already knew about Bobby Troup. Troup worked for the New Orleans PD for a year before coming to work for the Iberville Parish Sheriff. She found some newspaper articles about his being brought before the grand jury for the killing of the bookie. The Grand Jury returned a No Bill, which meant they didn’t recommend charges be filed. The District Attorney didn’t file charges, and Troup walked. However, the old Sheriff fired him. There was no mention of Liddell or Bitty in any of the news articles. Troup dropped from sight, literally. Angelina checked Social Security records and there was nothing to indicate employment. Six months ago he
went to work for the Plaquemine PD.

  Troup would have had the opportunity to kill Bitty and Cotton and hang Barbie, making it look like a suicide. Liddell said Bobby Troup had killed a bookie and involved his old partner, Doyle Doohan, in a cover-up. Troup and Doyle were fired and disgraced. So Troup had a motive. He wanted to get revenge on Bitty and Liddell. Cotton may have been collateral damage. Troup didn’t know what Cotton had told them when they visited. Cotton thought he’d seen a car setting on the road, watching the house while they talked. Of course, Cotton was paranoid, so there may not have been a car. But why would Troup want Barbie dead? If Barbie was involved in Troup’s trying to pin Bitty’s murder on Liddell, Troup might be tying up a loose end. Or maybe Barbie was pressuring Troup to get him a detective position. Bitty’s and Cotton’s murders were connected. Jack could feel it in his gut. And it was somehow tied to Evie’s disappearance. Landry said she hadn’t run away. He believed Landry. Parnell had said Bitty hadn’t talked to her about any missing children. Parnell was a known liar.

  Angelina told him about Dusty last, but what she found was quite interesting. Dusty left home when she was sixteen and used an assumed name to join the Navy. Angelina had contacts in unusual places. A case they’d worked a while back required some sealed military records and Angelina had a friend who was a programmer for the Department of Defense. This time she had called an Army recruiter friend who owed her a favor. She had run all the above past him and he came up with the tidbit about Dusty joining the Navy under an assumed name. She hadn’t known that was even possible—neither had Jack—but according to Angelina’s friend it’s not unheard of. The name that Dusty used was Jane Smith. Very original. Hard to track.

  Angelina said she’d found nothing on Jane Smith except for her separation from the Navy ten years ago. That coincided with Dusty joining up with the Iberville Parish Sheriff’s Department, now using her real name, Dusty Parnell. But Angelina had a thought and Googled Dusty Parnell’s address and found an online real estate posting by Jane Smith. The property was up for sale by owner. Jane Smith.