by BJ Bourg
“Can I have the front door?” Melvin asked. “So I can make contact with him?”
If Jake was going to be at the front door, that’s where I wanted to be, but it wasn’t my case. “This is your ballgame. I’ll go wherever you tell me to go.”
“Do you mind watching the back?” Melvin asked awkwardly. “I mean, only if you don’t mind, Chief.”
I smiled to reassure him. “I’m just here to help—and stop calling me Chief.”
“Okay, Chief.” Melvin took a deep breath and stepped slowly from behind the large maple where we’d been taking cover.
As he moved around the front of the trailer, I crouched low and made my way to the back corner near the busted-out window. I took up a position where I could watch the length of the back of the mobile home, as well as the end with the partially open crank-up windows.
All was quiet in the back, except for the wind blowing gently through the nearby trees. I moved my hand close to my pistol and waited for Melvin to knock on the door. I didn’t have to wait long.
Immediately upon hearing a thunderous knock from the front of the trailer, heavy footsteps pounded from that side of the trailer and made their way toward the back, where I waited. A hollow-core door crashed open above me and the footsteps raced toward the busted-out window. I stood to my feet just in time to see a head and shoulders appear in the window. I recognized Jake Boudreaux’s ugly face from the mugshot I’d seen earlier. He didn’t see me as he grasped onto the outside of the trailer and pushed his right leg through the opening. There was a large kitchen knife in his right hand.
More footsteps sounded through the trailer as I stepped clear of the corner and drew my pistol. “Drop the knife or I’ll shoot you right out of that window,” I said in a calm and clear voice, hoping he wouldn’t listen.
Jake’s eyes grew wide and he let out an audible gulp. He immediately drew his leg back into the window and turned to retreat into the bedroom. I couldn’t see into the room, so I didn’t know who was barreling through and I didn’t know if anyone was in danger. I was about to call out to Melvin when I heard him yell and then grunt. A bright flash emitted from the darkness of the room as a gunshot suddenly exploded inside. It was followed immediately by two more shots that were fired in rapid succession.
CHAPTER 29
“Melvin!” I sprinted around the trailer and rushed up the rocky steps. When I cleared the doorway, I hooked a right and rushed down the narrow hall. The door to the master bedroom was wide open and Melvin was squatting beside Jake, who was handcuffed and writhing in pain. The front of Jake’s shirt was saturated in blood.
“I’m okay,” Melvin said, looking up, “but he needs an ambulance.”
I pointed to the front of Melvin’s shirt, which was sliced vertically from the right side of his chest to his centerline. “Did he get you?”
Wiping sweat from his face, he shook his head and sprang to his feet. “My vest stopped it. I’m going get my first aid kit.”
I pulled the police radio from my back pocket and turned up the volume. I then called dispatch and requested an ambulance at our location. Jake was cursing and complaining about how much it hurt, but I wasn’t in the mood to hear it.
“Shut up and take your medicine like a man,” I said, locating the knife on the ground a few inches from his body. Using my foot, I slid it away from him. Within seconds, Melvin appeared beside me and dropped to his knees to render first aid. While Melvin went to work, I squatted beside Jake and pushed his head back so he could see me.
“Do you think this is how Allie felt when you beat her with that pipe wrench?” I asked. “Do you?”
Jake stopped cursing for a brief moment to stare at me. I stared daggers back at him and he closed his eyes and turned away, groaning in pain. I watched Melvin and marveled at the effort he was putting into saving the man who had just tried to kill him. Melvin was as good as they came, that was for sure. Sighing heavily in resignation, I asked him if there was anything I could do to help out.
Melvin pointed to a hole in the shirt of Jake’s lower torso that was leaking blood. “Can you apply pressure to that wound?”
I pulled a pair of latex gloves from Melvin’s first aid kit and then opened a sterile pad. Applying more pressure than was necessary, I pushed the pad directly against the bullet hole in Jake’s flesh. He winced in pain.
“Am I gonna die?” Jake asked in a display of pathetic cowardice. “It hurts so much!”
“No, you’re going to be fine,” Melvin said. “An ambulance is on the way.”
“Tell them to hurry! It hurts so bad!”
I wanted to tell him to shut up, but sat quiet while Melvin continued consoling him. “I’ve always been told if you live long enough to know you’ve been shot, there’s a good chance you’ll survive,” he said.
Jake looked over at Melvin, his face twisted in pain. “Really?”
“Yeah,” Melvin said. “Really.”
That seemed to calm Jake down a bit and it wasn’t long before sirens screamed down the street and two medics rushed through the front door of the trailer. They each carried large toolboxes of lifesaving equipment, and I stepped back to make room for them to do their job. More steps sounded at the entrance to the trailer and I looked up to see Susan coming through the door. She wore her uniform, but her hair had been pulled back into a rough ponytail, and I knew she’d gotten dressed in a hurry.
With a single glance, she took in the scene.
“Melvin, are you okay?” she asked as one of the medics traded places with Melvin.
“Yes, ma’am. I’m fine.” Melvin stood to his feet and slid by the medics and Jake.
Susan looked at me and I nodded. She sighed and grabbed her cell phone. “I’ll call Sheriff Turner and ask if he can send a team down to work the shooting.”
I nodded again and followed her out into the daylight. Melvin remained with the suspect and medics.
“What happened?” Susan asked after she finished speaking with Sheriff Turner.
I gave her the run down and she nodded.
“Thank God he was wearing his vest,” she said.
“Yeah, he’s lucky the bastard slashed at him rather than stabbing.”
“Mallory and Doug are on their way to work the case.”
Mallory Tuttle was a solid detective, and Doug Cagle wasn’t bad either.
I glanced at my watch. It wasn’t even nine o’clock yet and we’d already managed to shoot someone. This was not how I’d wanted to start my day and, thanks to Jake Boudreaux, this was going to be a long one.
When the medics appeared at the front entrance to the trailer carrying Jake on a stretcher, Susan and I rushed forward to help them down the wobbly steps. They survived the descent and then loaded Jake into the back of the ambulance. He had been cuffed to the spine board.
Melvin tossed me the keys to his truck. “I’ll ride to the hospital in the ambulance.”
I nodded and stopped one of the medics before they walked to the cab. “What hospital are y’all taking him to?”
“Chateau General,” he said.
“As soon as he’s stable, can y’all get him out of there?” I asked. “He beat his wife severely with a pipe wrench and she’s at Chateau General.”
He nodded his understanding. “I’ll make some calls. He’s already stable, so we can transport him somewhere else.”
I thanked him and turned to Susan. “I’ll follow them to the hospital in Melvin’s truck. That way, Mallory and Doug won’t have to go far to find any of us.”
“Okay. I’ll secure the scene until they get here.”
I started to walk off but Susan grabbed my hand. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
“Me, too,” I said. “I’ve got too much work to do to be laid up again.”
CHAPTER 30
Monday, October 3
Morning came early and I was in a sour mood when the alarm went off and disturbed my dreams. In my last dream, I was walking with my deceased daughter Abigail in a
field filled with clovers, and she was trying to find one with four leaves. It felt so real that I was confused when I woke up and found myself sleeping beside Susan. She didn’t even move and I touched her back to make sure she was breathing. Although we’d gotten home late last night because of the shooting investigation, Damian had worked her harder than ever. It was the first time I’d seen her so fatigued that she couldn’t raise her hands to defend herself.
I slipped out of bed as quietly as I could and rushed through a shower. I got dressed, wrote a note on the bathroom mirror in soap telling Susan I loved her, and then rushed out the door. I hadn’t even bothered to eat breakfast and I wasn’t hungry. My mind was on one thing—identifying the private investigator in the morgue. With luck, the school would have something for me.
As I drove, I called Melvin to see how he was doing. Since he had worked the weekend shift, he was off for two days and should’ve been home enjoying his time off. Instead, he was at Chateau General Hospital.
“What’re you doing there on your day off?” I asked. “Are you getting your shirt stitched up?”
He laughed. “Nope, I’m never getting that shirt fixed. I’m going to keep it as a reminder to always wear my vest.”
Holding the steering wheel with my knee, I rubbed my chest through my polo shirt. Maybe I should start wearing a vest, too, but it was so uncomfortable. I shrugged and asked him again what he was doing at the hospital.
“Claire and I picked up Sammy from his grandparents—they’re elderly and don’t get out much—and brought him to see Allie in the hospital.”
Claire was Melvin’s wife, and she was a good one. She loved that boy with all of her heart and it almost killed her when she walked into the hospital and saw the slash in Melvin’s shirt. We had to peel her off the floor. Melvin was worried she might make another push for him to leave law enforcement, but she hadn’t.
“That’s nice of y’all,” I said. “How’s Sammy doing?”
“Great—all he does is talk about the police man with the gold badge who bought him a hamburger.”
I smiled to myself as I ended the call and completed the twenty minute drive to Attakapas High School. When I checked into the office, a tall woman with blonde hair took my name and called the principal from her desk phone. After a brief conversation, she ushered me behind the counter, down a short hallway, and then pointed to an office. “Mr. Stew will be with you in a moment. Some student set off a stink bomb in the locker room and he’s trying to get down to the bottom of it. He said you can make yourself at home in his office.”
I nodded and sat in one of the wooden chairs in front of the desk. I didn’t know the difference between simply waiting and making myself at home, so I just placed my file folder on the desk and sat there. I read the certificates on the wall while I waited. I read them twice. Every one of them.
I was about to head to the locker room to help solve the stink bomb mystery when a shadow appeared in the doorway. I turned to see a short man approaching. His stomach entered the room a full second before the rest of his body got there. While his gut was impressive, the rest of his body looked normal. Had he been pregnant, he would’ve been described as “all baby”.
“Stewart Finane,” said the man, extending a thin hand. After shaking, he sat behind the desk and sighed heavily. “Well, that was a mess. What can I do for you?”
I opened my file folder and fished out the still images I’d printed from the Mechant Groceries surveillance cameras. I selected one that showed the best view of our P.I. and slid it across the desk. “Do you remember this guy coming into the school a couple of weeks ago?”
Stewart pulled some reading glasses from the front pocket of his plaid shirt and shoved them high on his nose. Grabbing the photo, he squinted and studied it. “Is this that private investigator who was pretending to be a cop?”
“Could be. What do you know about him?”
He pushed his chair back and leaned toward the door. “Donna!” he yelled. “Can you come in here?”
The blonde lady appeared in the doorway almost immediately. “Yes, sir?”
Staring at her over the reading glasses, he waved Donna over. “Is this that guy who came in here pretending to be a cop?”
She stepped forward and studied the picture. She immediately nodded. “That’s him.” She turned to me. “He said he worked with law enforcement, to make it sound like he was a cop. But I wasn’t fooled. I told him to have a seat and I called the sheriff’s office. They never heard of him.”
I caught my breath. “Do you remember his name?”
“No, but I have his business card.” She turned to walk away, calling over her shoulder, “I’ll get it real quick.”
I was beaming on the inside. A name would open so many doors. I turned my attention to Principal Finane. “Why’d he come here?”
“As I recall, he was waving around some kind of wanted poster and he wanted my staff to identify it. When they told him they couldn’t get involved, he asked to see a yearbook from the last three years.” He shook his head. “They told him no and called for our school resource officer, but he left before the SRO got to the office.”
“Did anyone see what he was driving?”
“Not that day, but he came back here the next day—that would’ve been Tuesday—and began stopping students as they left school grounds after band practice. One of our students, Kelli, said the man showed her a picture of Burton Vincent.” He paused and took a breath. “And then on Wednesday, another student named Billy said a man fitting that description came back and identified himself as Burton’s grandfather. Billy said the man claimed he was supposed to get Burton from school, but he was afraid Burton might’ve gotten on the bus already. Billy saw the man walk to a blue truck. He said it was an old one and it had a covered truck bed.
“By the time our SRO got out there he was gone. I had Donna contact Burton’s parents to let them know what was going on.” He shrugged. “We never saw him again.”
That’s because he was at the bottom of Westway Canal, I thought, nodding slowly. This was definitely my guy. “When did y’all call Burton’s parents?”
Finane’s brow furrowed. “I believe we called on both days—Tuesday when Kelli spoke to the man and again on Wednesday when he made contact with Billy.”
“I’ll need to interview Billy and Kelli.”
“Right away.” Stewart pulled out a chart and ran his finger down the page. He then picked up his handset and made two calls, asking teachers to send Billy and Kelli to the office. “They’ll be here in a minute.”
Just then, Donna returned carrying an old and faded business card. She handed it to me. “Here it is.”
The card had soft perforated edges. It looked like one of those homemade jobs that were printed on the computer and then torn from the page. The writing was faint, but I turned it to the light and read the name out loud. “Fowler Underwood.” I grunted. “F.U.”
CHAPTER 31
Kelli didn’t know much. While Principal Finane looked on, I questioned her about her encounter with Fowler Underwood. Apparently very shy, her face turned beet red every time I asked a question.
“All I remember was when I left band there was this undercover cop standing alongside the road and he showed me a picture,” she said slowly, pulling at her dark hair as she spoke. “He asked me if I knew who it was and I told him it was Burton. He asked me if I knew Burton’s last name and I told him.”
“What made you think he was an undercover cop?” I asked.
“He showed me a badge and he said he worked with the police to find people.”
“Did you tell Burton?”
She shook her head. “He’s a football player. I don’t really talk to them. They’re all kind of loud, you know?”
“Did the man ask you any other questions?”
Kelli was thoughtful. She finally nodded. “He asked me if I knew where he lived and if I knew his mother. I told him no and then he asked if I knew what bus he rode.�
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“Did you?”
She shook her head.
“Did he ask any more questions?”
She shook her head again and I thanked her for her time. When Billy was seated beside me, I asked what he remembered about his encounter with Fowler Underwood.
“Is that his name?” He grunted. “Weird name. Yeah, this guy comes up to me right before school lets out as I’m taking down the American flag. He says he’s Burton’s grandpa. He says he was there to pick up Burton but he was afraid Burton had already left on the bus.”
“Had he?” I asked.
Billy shook his head. “Nah, the bell hadn’t rung yet.”
“Did you tell Mr. Underwood which bus Burton rode?”
“Yes, sir. I pointed to it and told him the bus was still there, so Burton was still there.”
“You didn’t tell me that when I questioned you,” Principal Finane blurted. “Why not?”
Billy smirked. “You didn’t ask.”
“I understand from Principal Finane that you saw the man’s truck,” I said, not appreciating the interruption. “Do you remember what it looked like?”
“It was old and blue. It had one of those covers over the bed.” He shrugged. “That’s about it.”
“What did the man do when he finished talking to you?”
“He went sit in that truck.”
“Did you ever see him again?”
Billy cocked his head to the side. “I didn’t see him, but I saw his truck leave as my bus was pulling out. Burton and I don’t ride the same bus and I wasn’t paying attention, so I don’t know if he got in with his grandpa or not.”
After I thanked him, Finane sent him back to class.
I sat there for a moment, pondering what I’d learned. It was clear Underwood thought there was something to this strange phone call he’d received from Mechant Loup. The wily old fellow had managed to track Burton to his high school and then had followed his bus home. But had he made contact with Burton on Wednesday? If he had, it hadn’t been a long conversation, because he was seen leaving the street soon after he drove down it. He was back in the neighborhood for an hour on Thursday morning and then his truck disappeared back there on Friday morning.
