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

by Vicki Graybosch

  Stone sent a text to Acer: My source says we are newly loved and wanted.

  Acer texted back: I just got asked out again, too.

  Stone replied: I’m game. Could be fun.

  Acer ended the transmission with: Ditto.

  Ward Bromley looked at the caller ID on his cell phone and cringed. He was about to get another assignment. To his way of thinking, this grand flawless design was unraveling at warp speed and he was snarled in the middle with no way out. The last thing he needed was another problem.

  “Bromley.”

  “Do a full workup on a reporter for the Picayune. Name Reuben Florey. Make it a priority.”

  “Done.”

  Bromley returned his phone to his jacket, scratched out a quick note and looked at his watch. He had a meeting with SSA Dan Thor, FBI, in thirty minutes. Mr. Florey was going to have to wait, priority or not. He needed lunch.

  Reuben typed frantically to finish his breaking news story about Senior Assistant Attorney General, Steven Marks, being shot today in his car. Reuben couldn’t help but think this guy was lucky. He had been able to call 911 after being shot in the head and an ambulance was actually a half mile away when the call came in. Hospital reports were that he was in surgery fighting for his life.

  The press spokesman for the U.S. Attorney General’s office had no comment. Reuben glanced over to Marla’s desk. She still wasn’t back from lunch. Reuben smiled at the memory of Marla teasing him yesterday. She had smacked his arm softly and proclaimed a new found hope they would end up an item. She had told him she decided he must be gay. “After all, how could you pass up this?” She had twirled.

  Reuben did have a crush on Marla. He suspected she knew and was confused he never acted on it. He was so consumed with his father’s situation that his own life had been on hold. Reuben’s phone rang, “I’m in the parking lot downstairs. I just stole a bloody shirt from Mason Dooley’s car.”

  Reuben shook his head quickly and asked, “You did what? When? Why?”

  Marla sounded terrified, “Listen to me! The gal I had lunch with just called and said Mason knows I took his shirt and he’s mad. Real mad. She called her friend that works at the diner and he said Mason made them give him their security videos. Reuben, he’s going to find out who I am!”

  Reuben’s mind was spinning, “Do you know where I live?”

  Marla answered, “Yes.”

  “Go there and hide. I’ll tell Trayer you called in sick. There is a key to the door over the front window. Put your car in the garage. Shit. Bring the shirt in the house. I’ll get home about five. Don’t leave, you promise?”

  Marla promised.

  Reuben looked at the ceiling and prayed for some sanity in his life. His prayer was abruptly interrupted by Trayer standing behind him screaming, “Reuben! That story better be on the production desk in five minutes!”

  “Yes, sir.” Reuben glanced quickly over his text and hit send. Mason Dooley was after Marla over a bloody shirt. What else could possibly happen?

  Wednesday 1:00 pm

  The cab driver scowled at the story Spicey had given him. “A scavenger hunt in the marsh is about as safe as knocking on doors in the hood for charitable donations.”

  He slammed the cab’s breaks and dropped us all off in front of the dirt drive to Claude and Earl’s house. As angels, we could have just flown there ahead of the cab. It was more fun listening to mortals though. It took being an angel for me to realize the amount of freedom we have as mortals. Just about anything stupid we do we can blame on being mortal. Not so much for ‘almost’ angels. Heaven has higher expectations. This continues to be a formidable challenge.

  Linda and Teresa flew ahead to make sure the house was empty. Mary and I stayed to listen to Spicey, Sasha and Dakin argue about what kind of ‘personal’ items they would need to steal. Spicey claimed the items should have some DNA. Sasha accused her of spending too much time with cops. Dakin still wanted to poison them.

  Linda and Teresa flew back with such speed it created an unexpected gust of wind that sent Sasha’s dress straight over her head.

  “Well, that be weird.” Sasha dug her way out of the folds of fabric.

  Teresa looked at Mary and pointed to the house, “There’s blood everywhere! Chicken blood.”

  Linda added, “We saw a whole wastebasket filled with chicken heads.”

  Mary’s nose wrinkled, “I thought people slaughtered animals outside.”

  Chicken heads? A whole wastebasket full? These guys really like chicken.

  Spicey lifted her index finger in the air and pointed ahead. “Okay, let’s get this over with.”

  Sasha and Dakin followed Spicey down the twisted dirt path. The Spanish moss draped so low it was hard to see very far ahead.

  Sasha started swiping at the moss, “You know this stuff just crawlin’ with bugs and ticks.”

  They finally hit a widening in the path and saw the dilapidated house hanging on to the porch posts. The center of the roof had years ago given in to the green mounds of moss and vines. Plywood covered all but one window on the front. The door had four sets of hinges. Obviously as one set pulled away from dry rotted wood, another was installed a few inches higher.

  A sign was nailed on one porch support that read: Trespassers killed.

  Spicey frowned at the sign, “Hmm.”

  We all covered our eyes as Dakin pulled on the front door. She slowly stepped in followed by Spicey and Sasha. The light from the one window cast eerie shadows on the walls. A single beam of sunlight fought to penetrate the dust and insects in the air.

  Sasha scowled, “I’m afraid to breathe in here. Look at all the shit in the air.”

  Dakin moaned, “My shoes are stickin’ to the floor.”

  They all looked down. As their eyes adjusted to the dim light, they could see pools of blood drying. A crude attempt to mop had ended with a bucket of bloody water flanked by a bloody mop. Their collective gaze moved to a tall trash can filled with chicken heads. A huge axe sat at the ready, imbedded in the center of the table. A lone, live rooster crowed outside of the window. He flapped his wings and created a four foot shadow of his head across the room.

  As if orchestrated and practiced for months, they all screamed at precisely the same moment and bolted out the door.

  Once outside, no one spoke. They stood silent, panting, staring at each other.

  Spicey looked at Sasha, “I can’t believe you didn’t….” Sasha fainted.

  Mary asked, “Well, now what?”

  Teresa was flying toward us from the street. She was in a panic and pointed at Spicey. She concentrated on Spicey seeing her. Spicey’s jaw dropped and Teresa yelled, “Hide. They’re coming back!”

  Spicey just tilted her head and then she heard the ratty truck coming.

  “Sweet Jesus! Hide! They’re back!”

  Spicey grabbed Sasha’s shirt and started dragging her to the edge of the woods. Sasha’s legs started moving as she moaned, “Now what?” She must have heard the truck sounds, too, because she started running. Just as the truck turned the last bend on the drive, Spicey, Sasha and Dakin synchronized a dive into the thick brush.

  Teresa stood next to Linda panting. Mary shook her head, “I say we go back in, steal what the girls need and get the heck out of here.”

  What? Now we have to go back in?

  Cat was speechless. His mind swarmed from the news of Steven Marks being shot. His head throbbed, demanding he take his medication. He knew he didn’t dare.

  Roger and Paul sat quietly waiting for Cat to speak. Finally Roger placed his palms down on the table and looked Cat in the eyes. “You asked for my help. I’m here. Trust me enough to tell me everything.”

  Cat did.

  Izzy had a little trouble getting Ed’s key to unlock the door. Every time she heard a car coming, she stopped and hid behind a large planter of dead flowers. Finally the door opened. Izzy stood in the kitchen and surveyed the situation. It was going to be hard to do a goo
d job cleaning without making any noise.

  She carried the bleach to the back porch and started a load of Ed’s whites. Her own laundry had been sorted and was sitting in a tiny pile near the door. On the porch she found a few cleaning supplies and a pair of rubber gloves. An old bucket sat by the door with a mop resting against the wall. Izzy turned and looked at the kitchen floor. Yep. She had better mop.

  Halfway through her mopping she felt a wave of grief wash over her. Izzy sat at the table, head in hands and prayed. She thanked God for taking care of her Gram and asked for the hole in her heart to heal. Izzy asked God to look after Otis, Ed and the man in the alley. Izzy stood to finish her cleaning. She knew the hole in her heart would be with her for a very long time.

  Ed’s sleep had been fitful. He woke and looked at his bedside clock. It was only one o’clock in the afternoon. He still needed a few hours of sleep. He heard the sound of water running and tiny noises of footsteps and chairs moving quietly. He guessed that Izzy was snooping around some. He closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep.

  Izzy caught herself humming. Gram and Izzy always sang when they did their work. Gram said it made the work go faster. Izzy forced herself to stop. She didn’t want to wake Ed. Pleased with the way the kitchen looked, she moved to the living room. She didn’t think Ed spent much time there except for the reading chair. That was going to be her reward when she finished cleaning. Ed said she could read one of his books.

  Izzy stared at the book bindings and read the titles. Many sounded much too hard for her to read. Her eyes wandered to a tattered book titled “The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn”. She lifted it from the shelf and opened the cover. There were drawings of young boys playing all through the book.

  Izzy laid the book on the reading chair and smiled. If she hurried, she could have time to read about Huckleberry Finn. Izzy giggled. Who would name their child Huckleberry?

  Jeanne volunteered to go to the hospital and personally guard Steven Marks. Jeanne was the most highly trained agent in the office. Thor was reluctant to put her in danger, yet he knew he had no choice. Obviously, Steven Marks was someone’s target. Thor had called Core and asked if Zack could be assigned to assist Jeanne. An assassination attempt on an Assistant Attorney General indicated sophisticated criminals in play. Thor wanted Jeanne’s backup to be the best available. Roger was already using Core. Thor also assigned a handful of the new agents to secure other areas of the hospital.

  Thor looked at his watch and moaned. DOJ Investigator Ward Bromley was due any minute. Thor heard laughing down the hall and decided to grab a soft drink before his meeting. He walked up to a group of the new agent transfers laughing with DOJ Investigator Ward Bromley.

  Ward extended his hand to Thor. “Your boys here were just telling me a Voodoo lady named Spicey gave you the tip on the cemetery.”

  Thor was not happy. He glared at the other agents, then looked back at Bromley. “You are being hazed by the new boys. Sorry. Heads would roll if someone disclosed our tip sources in this office.”

  The agents quickly dispersed to other offices. Thor directed Bromley to the conference room. He would deal with these new guys when he finished with Bromley. He was so angry about Spicey’s name being dropped that he unintentionally slammed his notebook on the table causing Bromley to jump.

  Thor had just started the meeting when his phone went off. It was Roger. Thor looked at Bromley, “Have to take this, sorry.” Bromley nodded.

  Roger asked if he had started his meeting with Bromley yet. Thor answered, “Yes.”

  “Any way you can plant a tracer on him and his car?”

  “That could happen with some compromise.”

  “If you’re talking about bending rules, do it.”

  Thor ended the call and asked Bromley, “You want a soft drink or anything?”

  Bromley nodded his head, “Yeah. That sounds good.”

  Thor didn’t want Bromley wandering around, so he told him, “Toward the back of that notebook I have some names I want to check out with you before we get started.”

  Bromley answered, “Sure.”

  Thor left the conference room and shut the door behind him. He went over to where Nelson and Pablo had been conducting orientation for the new guys and signaled them to the hall.

  Thor whispered, “Ward Bromley from DOJ is more than likely dirty. Roger wants his car and his body wired before he leaves. Car is outside, one of you do that. I want a 47t in his watch. I’m thinking we might have to drug him.”

  Pablo whispered, “There has to be something in evidence.”

  Thor rubbed his chin. This would get sticky if they got caught.

  “Get it. He wants a pop. Give him half a roofy. Line up a 47t. Roger has NSA tracking this guy, but that only gives us conversations on phones. The 47T will give us his conversations in person.”

  Thor walked back in the conference room. Bromley had quickly shut the notebook. Thor explained the pop machine was stuck. “Got a newbie getting us a pop. Told him to shoot the machine if he had to. We have important company.”

  Bromley sat up straighter and laughed.

  Thirty minutes later he was slouched in his chair, his head lying on the table, drool running from his open mouth. His jacket and watch had been removed and he was snoring.

  Thor, Pablo and Nelson stood looking at him. A locator had been quickly hidden in the lining of his jacket. His watch now sported one of the latest model electronic listening device. IT declared it was up and working.

  Thor grumbled, “Let’s get him dressed. I’ll just tell him the meeting went fine and suddenly he fainted. Nelson, call paramedics here. I want Bromley to think we were really worried about him. Don’t want him suspicious. You guys perk him up somehow just before the paramedics get here.”

  Pablo offered, “I saw some speed in evidence.” Thor tilted his head for Pablo to get it and a fresh pop. Thor went back in his office to check in with Jeanne and Zack.

  “How’s Marks doing?”

  Jeanne answered, “Hanging on last we heard. We are standing outside of the operating room. The bullet missed his brain and spinal cord, but is lodged in a bad spot. One of the best brain surgeons in the country happened to be in this hospital today meeting with administrators. Can you believe it?”

  Thor shook his head, “That guy must have an angel.”

  Thor walked into the room of newly assigned agents and shut the door. He took a deep breath and tried to control the anger he was feeling. “Who gave up our Voodoo lady?”

  A tall guy in the back of the room raised his hand. “I did, I didn’t think. I’m sorry.”

  Thor nodded, “You don’t know what this office is working on. That Justice Investigator is knee deep with one of Senator Dalton’s hit men.”

  The tall agent had gone pale. The room was silent.

  Thor continued, “He just walked up and asked you, didn’t he?”

  “Yeah. Asked how we knew to go to the cemetery. I’m really sorry.”

  Thor had made similar mistakes himself in the past. He knew how easy someone slick could get you to give up information. “I have a problem. Until we figure out this hornet nest, we have to assume that Spicey is now a target.”

  The tall agent raised his hand, “I volunteer to guard her, sir.”

  Another agent raised his hand, “I’ll help.”

  Thor looked around the room, “Get two more volunteers on this, twelve hour shifts, and make it around the clock until you are told differently.” Thor looked around at the remaining agents in the room. “New Orleans is a criminal sewer. That’s why we’re here. Federally mandated consent decree. How many of those have you worked? How many cities have had to fire or prosecute half their police force, judges and city officials? Assume every tiny detail is connected to a larger story and another case. It is. Don’t be impressed with titles. Corruption is the foundation.”

  Thor pointed to the tall agent, “Spicey will resist you being there. You can only say you are FBI and there
to ensure her safety. Nothing else. This is costing me four guys that I need on other assignments. Let’s use this as an orientation exercise and learn from it. You have myself, Roger Dance and Paul Casey you can bring information to. Until further notice, that’s it. The rest of you guys go find Agents Manigat and Nelson for your assignments.”

  Thor waited for the tall agent to walk over. “Spicey is a unique lady. You’ll probably end up in some situations. I’ll pull you guys off this as soon as I can. What’s your name?”

  “Special Agent Phillip Weaver, sir. Again, I should have known better. I’m very sorry.”

  Thor actually smiled and said, “By this time tomorrow I’ll be saying that to you.”

  “Sir?”

  Thor left the room laughing.

  Special Agent Todd Nelson walked up to Weaver and put his arm on his shoulder. “Tough luck there, dude. I spent some time around those Voodoo chicks six months ago. Flyin’ snakes, storms that stop mid thunder crack. Found a pile of human bones in the swamp. A couple of live women, too.” Nelson’s toothpick wiggled at the side of his mouth. “You might meet Mambo, two hundred year old lady lives in a hut behind Honey Island. Little blue flames shooting out of the swamp all around her place. Has an eerie blue glow, ya know?” Nelson nodded his head and chuckled at Weaver’s expression. “Make sure you take plenty of ammo.”

  The agent that had volunteered to help, Douglas Troy, was listening with his mouth open. Weaver looked at him after Nelson walked away. “Shit.”

  Wednesday 2:00 pm

  Marla was going out of her mind at Reuben’s house. She promised she wouldn’t leave. She had to do something. She looked around Reuben’s house and started picking up. She opened his refrigerator and saw it was empty. Marla calculated Reuben’s house was at least three miles from her apartment. Even if Dooley had her address, there would be no reason for him to be over here.

  Marla talked herself into risking a quick trip to the grocery down the street. Just run in and get a few things for a dinner. She thought of calling Reuben first and changed her mind. He would tell her no. She checked her cash. She had plenty. With Dooley being a cop she wasn’t sure how much information he could get to find her. She knew from television not to use a charge card. Marla tingled with excitement and fear. She pulled out of the garage and inched down the driveway. So, this is what it’s been like for Reuben’s dad. It’s not easy being invisible.