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

by Vicki Graybosch

  Earl answered, “Yeah. Couple of punks.”

  Mason rolled his eyes. “Doesn’t really narrow it down, does it?”

  Earl made a face at Claude who had been listening as much as possible. Earl offered, “Why don’t we borrow a car from somebody and hunt ‘em down?”

  Mason scowled, “You do that. Keep me posted.” He ended the call and his mind raced with possibilities of what might come from this. None of them were good.

  Izzy was startled awake by the sounds of glass breaking. She sat up, grabbed her bag and listened. Two male voices were talking outside the front window.

  “You be sure nobody live here?”

  “Hell yes. Died yesterday. Watched ‘em take the old lady this mornin’. I’m tellin’ ya we can stay here at least a week before the city boys show up.”

  Izzy realized these men planned to live in her house. She ran for the bathroom and climbed out the window. After loading her bag in her bike basket, she quietly pushed her bike to the neighbors and then pedaled as fast as she could to get out of there. She stopped a few houses down the street and watched as the light in Gram’s room went on and shadows moved around the house.

  She felt violated. That house was hers and Gram’s. These were bad people to break Grams’ window and live where they didn’t belong. Izzy was so mad that tears streamed down her cheeks. Ms. Nelson’s dog, Patches, came up to the chain link fence and whined at her. Patches was kind of a medium sized mutt, mostly white with black patches. Gram had said Patches was a good old dog, kept strangers away from Ms. Nelson. Izzy stuck her fingers through the fence and scratched his chin and then the top of his head. Izzy saw his dog house in the long grass in the corner of the yard and got an idea.

  She bent down and whispered to Patches, “If I find you something to eat, can I stay at your house tonight? I’m kind of afraid of the dark.”

  Patches let out a soft little bark as if he knew they were keeping a secret. Izzy told him she would be right back as she headed for the dumpster by Otis’s store. Surely between a bar and a grocery store there would be some food in the dumpster.

  Tuesday 9:00 pm

  Cat had been reading the official files for over three hours. He was starving. He wrote down the address of Otis Grocery and grabbed his car keys. Seems there was a bar nearby he could grab some dinner and then check out that alley. He thought about calling Reuben to join him, but changed his mind. He still had a lot of research to do and well researched questions often answered themselves.

  His GPS directed him right to Otis Grocery on Mission Street. He sat in his car a few minutes to take in the neighborhood. He was one of the few prosecutors that didn’t carry a weapon. He had never justified the inconvenience until now. While there were people on the sidewalks and some traffic, he was surprised at how vacant it felt. Almost otherworldly compared to his side of town. He imagined eight years ago there had been more commerce and fewer signs of decay and neglect.

  Otis Grocery seemed the one bright spot in the neighborhood with relatively clean windows, good lighting and signs that bragged ‘Nalwens’ Best Family Store’. Cat looked at his watch, 9:00 pm. His stomach growled as he twisted in his seat to watch the bar patrons come and go. Two men left the bar and walked down the sidewalk toward him. Cat put his window down and listened to them talk. No grounds for concern, working men, talking sports and local news.

  Cat crossed the street, entered the bar and sat on a stool at the far end. The bartender walked down to him and wiped the counter with a rag he had been wearing on his shoulder.

  “What can I get ya?”

  Cat looked around for a menu. “Do you serve food this late?”

  The bartender smiled, “For a dude in a suit, you’re damn right we do.” He reached under the bar and handed Cat a menu. “Must be a cop or something?”

  Cat smiled, “Not a cop.”

  The bartender’s eyebrows went up, “If you’re not a cop, then you’re lost. Ain’t nothin’ in this neighborhood that calls for wearing a suit. Just sayin’. You be careful when you leave here, got gangs roamin’ this street at dark.”

  Cat thanked him for the warning, ordered two cheeseburgers and asked, “Do you know the guy that owns the grocery across the street?”

  The bartender held out his hand to shake, “My name is Toby, Otis is my brother-in-law. Good guy. Why you askin’ about him?”

  Cat immediately regretted he had. “I have a friend doing a story on New Orleans neighborhoods and how much they have changed since Katrina. Otis’s store looks like it’s been here a while.”

  Toby nodded, “Over thirty years now. Got the best fried chicken this side of town.” Toby gave a toothy grin and left to turn in Cat’s order. Cat felt the eyes of a man farther down the bar looking at him. Cat turned his head to face the man and lifted his beer as a hello. The man finished his beer in one long gulp and moved down to sit next to Cat.

  The man’s breath nearly caused Cat to gag. He had obviously been at the bar a while. “You a cop?”

  Cat shook his head. “Nope. Just wearing a suit.”

  The man leaned back to take in more of a view of Cat. “Somebody die?”

  Cat had enough. His piercing ice blue eyes glared at the man, “Not yet.”

  The man nearly jumped and backed away. He left a few bills on the bar and Cat heard him mumble something about bad attitudes.

  Toby walked back over with a napkin holder and condiments for Cat. “Thanks. I’ve been tryin’ to get him to go home for two hours.”

  Cat smiled, “I guess my social skills are rusty.”

  Toby delivered Cat’s cheeseburgers and they quickly disappeared. Cat asked for his tab. “Those were the best burgers I’ve had in years.”

  Toby smiled, “Get all our meat from Otis. Farm fresh daily deliveries. Makes a difference.”

  Cat stepped outside and walked to the edge of the building. The alley looked the same tonight as it must have eight years ago. Even the dumpster was still in the middle. Cat faced Otis Grocery and saw the camera in the lettering of the store sign. He thought back to the video and remembered the car pulling in the alley only about twenty feet. Cat saw why. There was a concrete drain line that extended about four feet into the alley. Mason Dooley knew it was there or he would have pulled in further.

  The street lighting was good in this block, but the alley itself was very dark. Had that car been pulled in farther the camera would never have caught Mason’s face or the license plate. Cat decided there wasn’t much more to see and started walking back to the street. A group of four young men turned into the alley. Before Cat could react, they jumped him. A bat landed squarely on the back of Cat’s skull. He felt more blows from the bat on his body and the alley began to spin. It seemed thousands of feet were kicking his body. He tried to fight back but was too injured.

  He felt them searching his pockets. His face was on the damp cobblestones of the alley. He heard himself moaning. He heard one of them yell, “Shit. This dude is a cop or somethin’. He got a badge in this wallet.” He felt his body being pulled behind the dumpster. He knew he was out of view of anyone that could help.

  Soon the voices were gone. Cat felt a tiny hand on his forehead. A soft cloth began gently rubbing his face. A little girl’s tiny voice asked, “You okay, mister? You look pretty hurt. I think some bad people hurt you.”

  Cat’s eyes fluttered open for a brief moment and he saw a little girl kneeling over him. Blood was running into his eyes. She looked very worried. Cat tried to sit up and fell back on his elbow. He saw a pink bicycle lying in the alley next to them.

  The little girl took a long look at Cat’s face. “I need an adult to help you, I’m only ten years old.” Izzy worried about leaving him alone. “I’ll be just a minute and I’ll come right back. I promise.”

  Cat tried to talk. He didn’t know if she had heard him or not or even if he had really said anything. The next thing he knew, there was a crowd of people around him. He saw the blue and red flashing lights of a
police car. He realized he was being loaded into an ambulance.

  Toby stuck his head in the ambulance, “You’ll be okay, man. Come back, but don’t wear no suit.”

  Cat tried to ask him about the little girl, but the ambulance attendant pushed him back down. All Cat could think of was that little girl on her bike, alone at night, on the streets of New Orleans.

  Back at the field office, Jeanne had changed into her khakis and t-shirt. She waited for the rest of the team in the conference room. Pablo and Nelson walked in together with four large pizza boxes.

  Pablo pulled out a piece and took a huge bite. Jeanne smiled as Pablo tried to say “Starving” with a mouthful.

  Nelson looked at Jeanne, “Gotta tell ya, every guy in that casino fell in love when you walked in. Lookin’ good there, Agent Manigat.” Nelson winked and gave her his best smile.

  Pablo realized Nelson didn’t know about Thor and Jeanne being a couple. “Uh, Nelson, my man, little sis here is livin’ with Thor.”

  Nelson sputtered, “I’m sorry. Shit. I didn’t know.”

  Jeanne chuckled, “Hey, no problem. Thanks for the compliment.” Suddenly her eyes lit up, “Do you think we can still go to the cemetery?”

  Pablo almost choked on his pizza. He started laughing and looked at Nelson, “She wants to go.”

  Thor walked in the room with a handful of drawings, laid them in the center of the table and grabbed a piece of pizza. “These are rough plot plans of the cemetery. Roger and Paul are going to stay here and visit with our Mr. Carson while we wait for someone to give us something to hold him on.”

  Pablo looked angry, “An ID of a missing Senator in his hotel room and a bomb isn’t enough?”

  Thor shrugged, “Both those things seem more like the work of someone setting him up, doesn’t it? What would you charge him with?”

  Pablo took another bite of pizza and grabbed a drawing from the table.

  Nelson walked over and took a copy also, “Cool. ‘City of the Dead’, the oldest above ground graveyard in New Orleans. Five square miles of creepy crypts. Shouldn’t we do this in the daylight? These guys aren’t going anywhere.”

  Thor nodded, “Roger wants us to check it out. He seems to think Spicey’s Voodoo tips are legit. If we find something, CSI will need these bodies as fresh as we can get them. We’ll rope it off and turn it over to them. Grab a crowbar. Local cops will meet us there.”

  Jeanne smiled at Nelson, “If Spicey says we’ve got ‘extrees’…”

  Nelson finished her quote, “Then we got ‘extrees’.”

  Claude went back in the bar. “Who wants to earn some money helpin’ Earl and me find Betty Sue?”

  A guy at the end of the bar raised his hand, “I want paid up front. Fifty dollars.”

  Claude’s jaw dropped, “Twenty dollars.”

  The man started walking over to Claude dangling his car keys in front of him, “Fifty dollars.”

  Claude reached in his overalls and pulled out a wad of bills. He counted off fifty dollars and shoved them at the man. “Damn. I been robbed twice and ain’t even finished my dinner.”

  The bartended yelled, “You ain’t paid for dinner yet, Claude.”

  Claude stomped his boot, “I’ll get you tomorrow!”

  Claude and Earl loaded themselves into the man’s car. The man scrunched his face and asked, “Don’t you boys ever shower?” They were about four blocks from the bar and the man stopped. “There you be.”

  Claude and Earl looked at him like he was crazy. Claude yelled, “What the hell you mean, ‘there you be’?”

  The man pointed out his driver’s window to an old vacant house across the street. Just inside the tattered fence was Betty Sue’s face peeking through the missing slats. Her extended middle finger was just visible above the fence.

  “How the hell did you see that?” Earl squinted at the fence.

  The man answered, “Saw ‘em pull in and knew it be your truck. Waited a few and saw a couple punks runnin’ away. Look like they be carryin’ clothes or somethin’. Best check your shit’s all there.”

  Claude slammed his fist on the dashboard. “You charged me fifty bucks and you knowed it only be four blocks away!”

  Earl and Claude cussed as they walked back to the truck. Earl peeked under the tarp. “Yep, he be missin’ his pants. Shoes gone, too.”

  Jackson and Abram had spent far too long on the last swamp tour of the day. The ride back had been dark and spooky. They had been on the boat with six tourist ladies, all beautiful, drinking booze. Jackson smiled, this was probably the best day of his life. Those gals were pretty, funny and loved their stories. They had totally lost track of the time. Jackson knew Abram was gonna talk about this ‘til the season ends.

  Jackson had used the majority of his reward money to buy a nice little two bedroom home for himself and his momma. He had also paid for her to have surgery on her eyes. She stood in the doorway now, watching for his car. Jackson talked out loud to himself, “Don’t matter I be forty years old. Momma gonna want a report on why I be late.”

  Jackson pulled in the drive and heard his momma yellin’ from the porch as he got out of the car. “You mind pickin’ up some groceries? I done spoiled dinner. Let it burn.” Her face looked like a child confessing.

  Jackson yelled back, “No problem. What you want? Lots of places closed.”

  His momma was deep in thought. Finally Jackson offered, “How ‘bout I go over to Dinky’s and get us some crawfish. Already cooked, ready to eat.”

  Momma’s face broke into a big smile. “That there sounds good. You be careful boy, that side of town got them gangs.”

  “Yes, momma.”

  Jackson pulled back out of the drive and headed for town. He knew his momma was right. There were a lot of places you didn’t want to be in the dark. Over by the ‘City of the Dead’ was one of ‘em.

  Cat must have fallen asleep. When he opened his eyes, Martha was sitting next to his bed. He started to sit up. Searing pain shot through his head and forced him to collapse back on his pillow.

  “Martha? What are you doing here?”

  “Just where do you think you are?”

  Cat looked around and saw he was in a hospital. It all came back to him. “Why…how…?”

  Martha draped a sweater over her shoulders. “Why do you think they keep these damn places so cold?”

  “Retards bacteria growth. How did you know I was here? What time is it?” Cat turned his head slowly to look for his watch.

  Martha answered, “I’m your ‘in-case-of-emergency’ number. Remember? You, sir, have had an emergency.”

  Cat chuckled, “You should see the other guys.” He winced, “Don’t think I even got off a punch.”

  Martha was shaking her head. “I had patrol pick up your car and take it to your house. Here are your keys.” She dropped them on his nightstand. “What in the world were you doing in that neighborhood at night?” Martha’s eyes had narrowed and she was expecting an answer.

  “I got a couple of hamburgers.”

  “Fine. Don’t tell me. The doctor says you can go home in the morning if that skull of yours isn’t any worse. You have a nasty bump on your head, a broken rib and a badly twisted wrist. Who knows how many bruises.”

  Cat looked at his left hand. That explained the bandage. ”They had a bat.”

  Martha was clearly worried. “I saw where Ted moved your cases to the new guys comin’ in.” Cat hadn’t told her yet and was surprised she knew. “Yeah, I know. Ted told me when I called to tell him about this.” Martha had dramatically swept her arm down the length of Cat’s bed.

  “You can fire me if you want, or have me arrested, but I had your keys and went in your house. I knew the hospital would let you come home tomorrow and I suspected you didn’t have any food. I was right. I filled your fridge with some healthy crap you probably won’t like. I also donated one of my bottles of scotch. You’ll need it.” Martha stood, “I don’t want to see you tomorrow at all. If th
ere is something you can’t live without, call me. The hospital will make sure you get home in the morning.”

  Cat reached out his hand. “You are my guardian angel. I’ll be fine.” He squeezed her hand and winked.

  Martha laughed, “Look at you flirtin’ already! Save it for the pretty nurses. I’m sure by now the word is out that you’re here. You wink at them and get yourself a good woman. Lordy. The idea of you going to the hood for hamburgers.”

  Just then a beautiful, blonde nurse walked into the room. Martha was quite sure the nurse had forgotten to button the top two buttons of her uniform. “Mr. Delacroix? I’m your night nurse. Let’s see if we can’t get you more comfortable.”

  Martha shook her head, Cat shrugged and smiled.

  After Martha left, Cat thought about the coincidence that he had been mugged by a youth gang just hours after vising Boggs. This was certainly a neighborhood that Boggs had influence; one of his clubs was only blocks away.

  Acer had gotten a room at the hotel across from the casino. Close enough to walk over and gauge the FBI’s progress without being too obvious. He had overheard a security man call into his radio that a bomb had exploded in Room 427. That was Stone’s room. Stone didn’t do it. He didn’t do it. Could be he and Stone both needed new jobs.

  Thor, Jeanne, Pablo and Nelson stood in front of the huge grave crypt of Marie Laveau.

  Jeanne read from the inscription over the door, “In all times, in all worlds, for all people. The Voodoo Queen. Born 9-10-1801 died 6-15-1881.”

  Jeanne looked at Thor, “She gets more visitors than Elvis.”