Catahoula: Shallow End Gals (A Shallow End Gals Book 4)

by Vicki Graybosch

  Acer picked up a newspaper in the lobby, grabbed a cocktail from a hostess and sat in an oversized chair with a full view of the door. He wanted to see what the local agents looked like. This was going to be fun.

  Izzy let her bike rest in the tall grass and bushes at the back of Gram’s house. The neighborhood looked pretty quiet. It was supper time. She pushed two cement blocks that had held a planter over to rest under the bathroom window. Gram’s favorite lilac bush concealed her as she pushed the window up, tossed in her bag of treasures and crawled through the opening.

  It was so nice to be home again. Her legs were tired from riding her bike all day. She didn’t know where to stop. She didn’t have anywhere to go that felt safe anymore. Otis had given her a funny look when she paid for her piece of chicken with a twenty dollar bill. She told him it was a birthday present. It felt terrible to lie to Otis, but she didn’t want him to think she had stolen it.

  Izzy walked around inside the house and noticed all of the small signs of intruders. She realized the police and medical people had not been real careful. Dirty footprints were on the floor and Gram’s furniture moved some. Probably because of that metal bed they used to take Gram away. Izzy could see the big padlock on the front door from the window. The back door had one, too. Gram’s bed was empty. Izzy sat on the corner of the bed and ate her piece of chicken. She assumed Gram could still hear her, so she told Gram about her adventures of the day.

  Izzy took a bath and changed into clean clothes. She decided to nap for a while and then make a plan for tomorrow. The money Gram left her wouldn’t last forever. She needed a job. The sounds from the street became distant and Izzy fell into a deep sleep.

  Jeanne reported back to the field office after she finished at the gym. She heard familiar voices from the conference room and ran toward them. Pablo jumped up from his chair and hugged her the moment she entered the room. They were twins and hadn’t seen each other for six months. Roger, Paul and Nelson stood in a line for their hugs, too.

  “Wow! This is almost the whole team.” Jeanne took a seat at the table and smiled at Roger. After some brief catching up, Roger signaled he wanted to get on with business.

  Roger asked Jeanne, “How did the SWAT evaluations go?”

  Jeanne answered, “They are doing better than expected. Some of them are already very good.”

  Roger told Jeanne that Thor would brief her on what was known about the Senator’s disappearance and possible murder. Until more information came in from Baton Rouge office and the NSA, they were going to concentrate on other issues.

  Roger looked at the group and asked, “How many of you remember the Voodoo lady, Spicey?”

  Agent Todd Nelson rolled his eyes, “She’s kind of hard to forget. Does this have something to do with our field trip to a cemetery?”

  Pablo looked at Jeanne, “Cool.” They had grown up in New Orleans, were half-Haitian and both declared Voodoo as their religion. Jeanne was unique in that she had brilliant blue eyes. A blue-eyed Haitian was very rare. Voodoo believers professed them to be chosen by the spirits.

  The intake agent popped his head in the door and pointed to Thor. Thor smiled as he pointed at Roger, “New boss.”

  The intake agent moved his urgent stare to Roger, “Got a video text you need to see. Just came over the main line. I can put it on the big screen there.” He was pointing across the room.

  Roger nodded, “Do it.”

  The team all rose from their seats and gathered around the large black screen. The text came first: Stone Carson, alias Michael Williamson, Room 427 casino. Last to see Senator Dalton alive.

  Roger glanced at Paul, then back to the screen.

  The first photo loaded. It was a man handcuffed to a metal support with duct tape on his mouth. Roger cringed. He recognized the man as Senator Dalton. The second photo was a very good looking man that Roger assumed was Stone Carson.

  Roger turned to the intake agent. “Send that last photo to all agent phones, now. Forward the entire text to cyber forensics.”

  Roger turned to the group. “We have to assume this is legit and move on it.” Roger stood and began checking his weapon. The others did the same.

  Paul asked, “How do you want to do this?”

  Roger looked at Thor, “You and Jeanne go civilian. When you get in position, we’ll come in. Assume this guy is trained to spot trouble. Let us do the take down. The rest of us will wear vests and body cams. Someone is setting this guy up and I’ll bet he wants to watch.”

  Roger addressed the intake agent, “Send a few guys to the casino in street clothes with full video tech. I want every person there on film before this goes down.”

  Thor looked at Jeanne who was smiling.

  Jeanne volunteered, “I have a sexy little outfit in my locker. Maybe I can distract him.”

  Roger nodded, “That might help. Thanks.” Jeanne left the room, undressing as she ran.

  The room became silent. Every man there looked at Thor.

  Thor shrugged, “She’s good at distraction.”

  Reuben was pacing next to his car waiting for Marla to meet him. He felt sick to his stomach by her betrayal. How could she copy one of his files? They were friends. He knew she had watched the video, he could tell from her guilty expression.

  Marla’s voice broke through his thoughts. “I am so sorry, Reuben.”

  Reuben saw she was crying. He didn’t care. “Get in the car.”

  Reuben rested his forehead on his steering wheel. He wanted to collect his thoughts before he said something he would regret later. He looked over at Marla. She looked a wreck. Her hair was in strange clumps and her eyeliner had run down her cheeks.

  Reuben couldn’t help himself, he starting laughing. He couldn’t stop. Marla’s facial expression looked as if she had been shocked with a bolt of electricity. Then she looked concerned, like maybe Reuben had gone mad. Every time her expression changed, it made Reuben laugh even harder. Reuben shook his head and figured it had to be the stress he had been under. He knew it was also a sign of the ultimate trust he still had in Marla.

  “I’m sorry.” Reuben wiped his eyes.

  Marla was concerned and confused. “You’re sorry? What the hell is going on, Reuben?”

  Reuben asked, “Can I trust you?”

  Marla started crying again, “I don’t know. I don’t know why I copied that file. I just wanted in on your big story. I saw the note you made about meeting Catahoula.”

  Reuben remembered that he had left her his notebook. “It’s not just a big story. It’s much more than that to me.”

  Marla was dabbing her eyes with a tissue she found on Reuben’s console. “I can tell you this for sure, if you want me to forget everything that happened today, it’s done.” She sniffled and said, “Maybe you shouldn’t tell me anything. I don’t want anything to hurt our friendship. If I mess up somehow…”

  Reuben told her the whole story.

  Marla practically held her breath the entire time. When Reuben finished, he asked her for her thoughts.

  Marla barely whispered, “Holy crap.”

  Mason Dooley was not happy. Not only did he have to take this self-defense crap with the FBI, but he just found out he would have to re-qualify for his weapon. This was his tenth year on the force. This mandated consent decree was a pain in the ass. Half of his fellow officers had been kicked off the force. Another dozen or so feared prosecution for past deeds.

  Working for the police department wasn’t Dooley’s real income. He made far more money doing the dirty work for people of power. Hell, he didn’t even know who he worked for. He had one contact and just did what he was told. Whoever these people were, they had power. Mason had never had to pay the consequences for anything they had asked him to do.

  A joint account with his mother held his special money. He would inherit all of it anyway. Dooley pulled a short list from his uniform pocket. Four names and three were already scratched off. Once he got rid of this last one, he would
be paid twenty thousand dollars. Cash. Dooley took a pen from his pocket and crossed off Judge Ingle’s name. Done.

  The Chief had told them at morning role call that the FBI was bringing in additional agents. A lot of them. Dooley spit out the patrol car window. Damn Feds. He saw a small gang of young men turn the corner. He flashed his lights and let out a siren chirp. The gang quickly turned and left. Last thing he needed was a bunch of punks hanging around.

  Mason heard the clanging of a muffler dragging and the low rumble of a tired motor. He looked in his rearview mirror and saw Claude’s pickup truck pull up and park behind him. The truck sighed with such finality that Dooley worried it wouldn’t restart.

  Claude walked up to Dooley’s window, “Where it be?”

  Dooley pointed to the vacant lot across the street. “Drive down the alley in the back and load it up. Take care of it tonight.” Dooley frowned, “Try not to be seen, okay? This might be the last one for a while. Things are heatin’ up.”

  Claude scratched his armpit, “When we gettin’ paid?”

  “When I call you. Now move it! I’m supposed to be on the other side of town. I’ll keep everyone away ‘til you leave. Take it to the cemetery tonight about ten. I’ll guard the corner like usual.”

  Claude got back in the truck and started it. He looked at Earl, “Dooley says this be the last one for a while. Things gettin’ hot.”

  Earl moaned, “Damn it all. I got bills needin’ paid.” They drove around back to the alley, tossed the lifeless body in the back of the truck and covered it with a blue tarp.

  “You see the suit this guy be wearin’? That be a five hundred dollar suit I bet. Dooley done ruined the jacket. Put two holes in it.”

  Judge Ingle had made the mistake of handing down too many tough sentences on the wrong people. He had ignored warnings and paid the price tonight. His vacation was to have started in the morning. The fact that he had no family meant he wouldn’t be missed for two weeks.

  Earl looked out the back window of the truck to the large tarp in the back. “Reckon we could sell them pants right easy.”

  Claude belched and pointed ahead, “That there is the bar I was tellin’ ya about. Real good jambalaya. Let’s stop and get us some. This guy ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

  Tuesday 6:30 pm

  The cluster of bells at each door announced even more customers were heading into the Voodoo shop. Sasha raised her eyebrows at Spicey and tilted her head toward the door. Sasha had been ringing up sales at a feverish pace all afternoon. Spicey had just walked into the storefront from a nap.

  Spicey yawned, smiled at an elderly couple holding hands and asked, “Anything special you be lookin’ for, you just ask. You just want to browse, that be okay, too.” Spicey waved her arm in the air and then smoothed her long, flowing silk dress as she pretended to dust a few objects.

  The elderly woman remarked, “My, what a beautiful woman you are! The brilliant colors on your gown and headpiece look like a magazine cover.”

  Spicey blushed as she fluffed her hair. Spicey looked over to make sure Sasha had heard. Sasha rolled her eyes. Spicey smiled and the old lady crooked her finger for Spicey to move in close.

  The old lady whispered, “We would like to purchase a love potion. LOTS of it. Everyone in the Quarter says you’re the real deal.” She looked at the old man and giggled.

  Spicey tilted her head and whispered back, “You mean to fall in love or so you get some love?”

  The old man was hanging on to the corner of the counter to steady himself. He grinned, “To get some.” The old lady winked.

  Spicey walked back behind the counter and squeezed herself between Sasha and the rows of potions. She whispered behind Sasha’s back, “Got us a couple of live ones.” She picked up the potion jar for love and saw it was almost empty. Spicey held up her index finger to excuse herself, went behind her velvet curtain and placed the near empty potion jar next to her crystal ball. She sat down, put her hands on the ball and concentrated on calling her Spiritual Advisor. Soon, she saw the Spirit within a mist in the center of the ball. Spicey said, “I’m almost out of love potion and I don’t know how to get more.”

  The Spirits image disappeared and Spicey sat up straight. “Huh.” She looked over and the potion jar was full. “Damn if this shit ain’t spooky as hell.” She went back to the counter where the old couple was patiently waiting. Most of the remaining customers had checked out and left.

  Spicey took a small spoon and carefully scooped out a spoonful that she dropped into a small envelope. She heard the old lady clear her throat and Spicey looked over. The old lady tilted her head indicating she wanted more. Spicey slowly scooped out another spoonful and placed it in the envelope. She glanced at the old lady who smiled. “Dear, I think we might just buy the whole jar.”

  Spicey and Sasha looked at each other. Spicey tried to choose her words carefully, “This here potion be the real deal. You only have to sprinkle a little pinch to get the job done.” Spicey waited for the old man to stop coughing up his lungs. “Don’t want to kill nobody.”

  The old lady and man started laughing and nudging each other with their elbows. “Oh honey, ain’t just for us. We be on the organizing committee for an event.”

  Sasha’s head went back, “What kind of event you need a whole jar of love potion?” She was getting a very disturbing mental image.

  The old man straightened up and answered, “We’re having a Woodstock reunion next week over in Jefferson Parish. Got people comin’ from all over the world. Even got some of the bands comin’ back! Been hoardin’ our meds for over a year now.”

  Spicey’s jaw dropped.

  Sasha nodded her head, “Okay. Got it. Think one jar be enough?”

  Jeanne and Thor walked into the main gaming room at the casino. Jeanne quickly glanced around the room and spotted Stone Carson purchasing chips at a half empty blackjack table. Jeanne turned her back to Stone and looked at Thor, “Got him at 10 o’clock. Give me some money and you go to the slots on the right.”

  Thor made a show of digging his money clip from his pocket and waving a handful of bills at Jeanne. “I get this back, right?”

  Jeanne smiled and turned from him. She slowly took in the whole room and stopped her gaze on Stone. He had noticed her. Jeanne walked to his table and took a seat next to him. She put Thor’s money on the table for chips and smiled at Stone.

  Stone smiled back, “I don’t pay for it.”

  Jeanne opened her hand that held her FBI badge, “I don’t sell it.”

  Stone started to lean back in his chair and felt cold steel on the back of his neck. Thor dangled cuffs in front of Stone’s face. Stone smiled at the dealer, “I guess I’ll pass this hand.”

  Roger and Paul had flanked Jeanne and Thor. Stone and Roger locked in a cold stare. Roger looked at Thor, “Have Nelson and Pablo assist in transport. Paul and I will finish up here.”

  Paul glanced at Roger as they watched Jeanne and Thor lead Stone from the casino. “That was easy.”

  Roger was watching the casino crowd, “Yeah.”

  Ten plainclothes agents were mixed in the crowd taking videos. Roger and Paul approached the registration desk and requested the key for Room 427. In the elevator on the way to the fourth floor, Roger called the Director and reported the text tip and the arrest of Stone. The Director had seen the text and the photos just minutes before Roger had called. The Director and Roger had a unique relationship since Roger’s last assignment in New Orleans. The Director had met Ellen and knew about the angels and the role they played in helping the FBI six months ago.

  The Director asked, “That picture of the Senator was obviously taken by someone inside the helicopter. We know there were both a pilot and a copilot that left the airport with the Senator. Could we have one of them turning against the other?”

  Roger answered, “I agree the photo came from inside the helicopter. We need to prove Stone Carson was one of the pilots. I haven’t drawn any conclusions yet, sir
. I’ll keep you posted.”

  Paul held the elevator door for Roger and said, “The forensic people are in the building, should be here any minute.”

  Roger slid the key through the lock and opened the door to Room 427. Ellen had manifested herself as a black cat and sprang toward Roger as he opened the door. Roger and Paul stumbled backwards as Ellen closed the door and vanished. A thunderous blast from the room blew the door from its hinges and sent fiery debris flying from the opening. Flames shot past the debris and quickly retreated back into the room. The contact blast explosive was designed to concentrate damage in one direction and then consume oxygen and extinguish itself.

  Roger notified the hotel staff to disarm the sprinkler system and evacuate the guests. The bomb was a smoldering heap of debris, no longer a fire threat, but Roger feared there may be more than one. Paul notified the forensics staff to wait until the bomb squad finished.

  Paul straightened his jacket, stepped over some smoking debris in the hall and smiled at Roger, “Guess Ellen’s back.”

  When Roger and Paul first met Ellen, she had decided to appear as a black cat and communicate with them through winks. In order to explain her presence, Roger had passed her off as his pet. He paid the price to his reputation. He was now known as being eccentric when it came to cats. Heaven had unique rules about mortal and angel interaction. Roger and Paul were still learning. Kim was the only mortal that could actually see and talk to Ellen and the gals.

  Roger and Paul made an inventory list of what had been in Stone Carson’s room, including the Senate ID of Senator Dalton. Roger pointed to the bed, “Stone didn’t even sit on the bed. Nothing is disturbed. He checked into the room forty five minutes ago, took a shower and went to the gaming floor.” Roger’s gut told him a key element was missing. “Unless he sent the text incriminating himself, he didn’t know we were coming. He didn’t set the bomb.”