Clint Wolf Boxed Set: Books 4 - 6

by BJ Bourg

  “Good idea!” Melvin turned back toward the family. “So, do any of you have footage from today? Cell video or photos?”

  I didn’t wait for them to answer. I rejoined Susan and we set out to process the scene together. There wasn’t much to it, and not a lot of evidence. At this point, all we knew was someone shot Chester while he was on the toilet, and the shooter was standing outside the portable restroom.

  Once the coroner’s investigator had arrived and claimed Chester’s body, I broke out some trajectory string and inserted it into the hole in the door and through to the hole in the back. While Susan held her end of the string out the back, I slowly moved away from the door of the portable toilet, keeping the string at the exact angle of the shot. As I moved farther away, the string continued to drop ever so slightly. When I was about two hundred feet away from the bathroom door, the string was five feet above the ground and I found myself standing in the grassy parking lot. There were no vehicles around me where a shooter could hide and there was nothing between me and the toilet.

  I lowered the string and rubbed my head. Where in the hell had those shots come from, and why hadn’t anyone heard anything?

  I posed the question to Susan when I rolled up the string and returned it to my crime scene box. “How is it possible to kill someone in broad daylight and in front of a thousand people?”

  Susan thought it over for a moment. “The band has been playing since around noon. Maybe the music drowned out the shots?”

  “The bullets were fired from a twenty-two, so it’s certainly possible the music masked the shooting, but how’s it possible no one saw the shooting?” As the words left my mouth, I caught sight of a few people milling around and a probable answer came to me—nearly everyone I saw was staring down at their cell phones. No one was paying attention to anything that was happening around them. I waved my hand around us. “Look at these people.”

  Susan’s face was blank. “What about them?”

  “They’re all on their cell phones. Not a one of them is looking up. We all know distracted driving kills, but what about distracted living? These people are so engrossed in the information on their phones that they’ve got no clue what’s going on around them. Hell, we could open fire on them and no one would know what hit them.”

  “Wow, you’re right. If they didn’t hear the shots, then their attention would not have been drawn to it, so there’s a good chance no one even saw the shooting.” She stared out toward the parking area. “The killer could’ve stood right there in the open and banged away.”

  “Our only hope is that one of these people captured the shooting on their cell phone. Lord knows people are always taking selfies and other pictures with those damn things, so we might be able to catch a break.” Personally, I used my cell phone for work, not play, so I didn’t understand the struggle. “After I pick up my crime scene kit, I’ll—”

  “Susan! Clint! What on earth happened?”

  CHAPTER 5

  Susan and I turned to see Takecia allowing Mayor Pauline Cain to slip under the crime scene tape. She approached at a brisk walk, her jet-black hair bouncing on the wind behind her. The parts of her face that weren’t covered by her sunglasses were red from the sun. She’d spent most of yesterday evening and all of today walking around the festival greeting the townspeople and serving food. She was a widow—hell, she had no family at all and no hobbies—and she seemed to be married to the town. If we shut the festival down early, she wouldn’t be happy.

  “There’s been a murder,” I began when she drew near. “One of the carnival workers was shot while he used the potty.”

  “How long ago?”

  I glanced at the time on my phone. “About two and a half hours ago.”

  “Why didn’t anyone tell me?” She wasn’t angry, but she seemed disappointed. “I had to hear it from a drunk guy who tried to dance with me. He told me he’d keep me safe from the murderer who was stalking the fair.”

  “I called your phone three times,” Susan explained. “I guess you didn’t hear it with all the noise.”

  Pauline instantly reached for the back pocket of her snug jeans and jerked out her phone. She smiled sheepishly. “My bad. I should’ve put it on vibrate. I would’ve definitely felt it then, considering I haven’t had much action—never mind.” Her smile quickly faded and her expression turned somber. “What does this mean for the festival? Do we have to cancel it?”

  We were in an election year and this was the best chance for Pauline to reach most of the town’s nearly 2,500 voters at one time. Within the past year—thanks to a new subdivision that had sprung up to the north—the town had experienced an influx of new residents, and many of them had come out to see what the festival was all about. Pauline needed this chance to introduce herself and let them get to know her on a personal level. Two opponents had stepped forward to challenge her and these men were walking the town every day spreading lies about her connection to her deceased husband’s shady dealings. The natives had lived the story and knew she was as much a victim as the rest of the town, but it would be easy to sway the transplants, most of whom were retirees looking for a final resting place that was quiet and safe.

  With the race heating up and the mudslinging already begun, Pauline didn’t need a murderer running free, making the community feel uneasy.

  I glanced at Susan, shrugged. “I don’t believe this was a random killing. I think Chester Raymond was targeted, and our number one suspect left with a tall blonde about twelve-thirty.”

  Pauline was thoughtful. “So, do you think it’s safe for everyone to be out here?”

  I nodded.

  “Yeah,” Susan agreed. “I believe the danger has passed, but, just in case, I’ll get with Buck and see if he can loan us some deputies for extra security.”

  Buck Turner was the Sheriff of Chateau Parish. A former cattleman, he was as good a man as they came and was a loyal friend. He was always there when we needed him.

  “What are the chances of you guys solving this case soon,” Pauline asked, “like in the next day or so?”

  “He’d better solve it in the next day or so,” Susan said, “because we’re getting married on the sixteenth—no matter what.”

  “You go girl.” Pauline glanced over her shoulder, where a large number of the festival goers were still under the pavilion, completely unaware that something terrible had taken place. “Well, the auction’s about to start, so I’d better get back. Let me know if you guys need anything—I’ll be sure to answer my phone next time.”

  After she’d walked away, Susan and I scoured the ground between the commode and the parking lot, searching in earnest for bullet casings. When we were about seventy-five feet into the parking lot, my eye caught a glint of golden shine from the gravel. I hurried to the area and squatted low. “Bingo!”

  Susan joined me and nodded her approval when I pointed out a spent .22 caliber shell casing lying in the gravel. “It’s a twenty-two long,” I said. “It could’ve been fired from a rifle or a pistol.”

  After we documented the finding, we searched the rest of the area, combing every inch of the ground. We didn’t locate another spent casing, despite our best efforts. Next, we searched for the errant bullet that went through and through the portable toilet—we even used a metal detector to scan the field beyond it—but it was no use.

  “Do you think the shooter picked up the rest of the casings?” Susan asked when we called it quits two hours later. The sun was sliding toward the western horizon and the shadows were growing longer by the minute.

  “I don’t know, but we need to find Hulk and Blondie, and we need to find them pronto. We also need to notify Chester’s family.”

  After I finished collecting my equipment, Susan left to find Melvin, and I waited while a crew from the motor pool of the sheriff’s office loaded the portable toilet onto a truck to be transported to their crime lab facility. Their storage capacity was much greater than ours and we routinely signed large items o
f evidence over to them for safekeeping. Before they drove off, I filled out a chain of custody form and gave them a copy.

  I noticed Bart standing in the shadows of a popcorn stand. He was watching the sheriff’s office truck drive away.

  “It’s really hard to believe,” he said when I strode up to him and stopped by his side. “I mean, I was talking to him an hour or so before he was killed and”—he snapped his fingers—“just like that, he’s gone.”

  “If it makes you feel any better, we’re all going to die someday.”

  Bart fixed me with wide eyes. “That doesn’t make me feel better at all—not one bit, thank you very much!”

  “I’m sorry.” I waved to dismiss my comment. “Anyway, can you take me to your boss? I’d like to get some contact information on Chester. I need to notify his family as soon as possible.”

  Without saying another word and still troubled by my dry remark, Bart walked off. I followed him past the rides and away from the fairgrounds, where a smattering of travel trailers were strewn about in a large field. It appeared as though twenty drunk drivers had just driven into the field and stopped. The trailers were in no particular order and they were all still hitched to the trucks that pulled them.

  “My boss is in there.” Bart pointed toward one of the trailers. A yellowish light shone from a dirty window over the door. “Joel’s his name. He’s in charge of the whole crew.”

  I thanked him and approached the trailer, wondering if Susan and Melvin had found Hulk and Blondie. I knocked on the door and felt the cool metal bend under my knuckles. I wondered if it left a dent. I didn’t think I’d hit it that hard. Must be cheap.

  “Who’s out there?” called a rough voice.

  “Clint Wolf. I’m the Chief Investigator for Mechant Loup Police Department. I’ve got some questions about—”

  The door burst open, revealing a thin man in boxer shorts and a white tanktop. His hair was mostly missing. A cigarette dangled from the corner of his mouth and it bounced as he talked. “What can I do you for?”

  He scrambled down the steps and quickly pushed the door closed behind him, but before it shut I caught a glimpse of a naked woman sitting up on the sofa.

  “Are you Joel?”

  “Yes, sir…Joel Baker. Is there something I can help you with?”

  “I need some information on one of your workers.”

  The cigarette grew deathly still. After a long moment, he said, “Is this about Chester Raymond?”

  I nodded, waited to see what he would say.

  “Chester was one of my best workers. I was sad to hear what happened.” He pulled the cigarette from his mouth and wiped his lips on his bare arm. “Did you get the guy who did it?”

  “How do you know it was a guy?” I asked.

  “I heard talk that some big dude was looking for him—something about Chester touching his wife?” He shook his head. “I don’t believe it for one second. Chester was as decent as they come. We wouldn’t hire perverts to work the fair. Too many kids around, you know?”

  “Well, how can I get in touch with his family? We need to make the death notification.”

  “Hell, I’ve got no clue how to get in touch with his family.”

  “Don’t you make your employees fill out applications?” Even as the words left my mouth, I realized I was expecting too much. “What about an emergency contact in case they get hurt?”

  He waved his hand into the air, encompassing all of the fairgrounds in his gesture. “Half of my employees are part-time locals, people who show up on the first day of the fair and ask for work. I call the local sheriff’s office and run a quick background check, but that’s about as far as I go. I pay them cash money and never see them again unless they show up the following year.”

  “As I understand it, Chester has worked here for a number of years.”

  “And he’s a good worker, but I’ve never met his wife or any of his other family members.” Joel took a breath and exhaled. “Look, we get real busy out here and there’s not much time for making friends. It’s just part of the territory. I wish I could get to know all of my employees and we could all swap spit and be best buds, but the fact is—”

  “What about the woman inside?” I asked. “Are you swapping spit with her? Is she one of your employees?”

  His eyes narrowed. “She happens to be my wife. If one of the festivals happens to be close enough to the house, she’ll come down to visit me for the weekend.”

  I mumbled an apology. “What about trouble? Other than this incident at the ride, has Chester had a beef with any of the other workers? Or anyone else, for that matter?”

  “As far as I know, that’s it. He gets along with everyone at the carnival, so there’s been no trouble between him and any of my other workers. And like I said, I don’t even believe he did what that man said he did.”

  I thanked him for his time and walked away, grabbing my phone to call Susan. I sure hope someone knows how to find this man’s family.

  CHAPTER 6

  Two hours later…

  Music pounded my eardrums as I walked through the crowded pavilion. It was late in the evening and the party was going strong at the Mechant Loup Spring Festival. The lights that hung from the rafters overhead seemed to bounce with each beat of the bass drum. I had to turn sideways to squeeze through the herd of people. Although it was a cool night, nearly everyone out there was covered in sweat. I wasn’t sweating, but I also wasn’t dancing to every Swamp Pop song that blared from the speakers. To anyone who didn’t know better, this was just another fun-filled night in Southeast Louisiana.

  The smell of fried seafood was thick in the air and it made my stomach churn. I hadn’t eaten since early in the day, and it was time to refuel my system. Once I pushed my way through to the end of the pavilion, I headed for the food stations.

  “What’re you having?” asked Mayor Cain, who was helping out at the booth selling fried catfish and crawfish etouffee.

  I studied the white poster taped to the counter in front of me. I needed eight tickets for the etouffee and four for the catfish. The drinks were two tickets. I dug out the tickets I’d purchased earlier and slid them across the counter. “I’ll take a bowl of etouffee, some catfish, and a bottle of water.”

  Mayor Cain slid the tickets back in my direction. “You know first responders eat for free.”

  “Not this one.” I shook my head. “I pay like everyone else.”

  She hesitated for a moment. When she realized I wouldn’t relent, she took my tickets and gathered up my food. When she brought it to me, she asked if we’d learned anything new.

  “We’ve checked everywhere, but there’s no sign of Hulk and Blondie, and we haven’t been able to get a lead on the victim’s family. Susan’s at the office combing through records. Takecia and Melvin are roaming around in case our suspect returns.”

  “Did Takecia find anything in the woods?”

  “She made her way to Forbidden Bayou and found an unregistered boat tied to a tree.” I shook my head. “Other than that, it was a dead end.”

  “What will you do if you can’t find the man’s family?”

  “Melvin and I will take a boat out in the morning and see if we can’t locate the family out along Forbidden Bayou.”

  Pauline’s brow furrowed. “Won’t that be dangerous? A hunter disappeared back there many years ago and, since then, no one’s dared to cross that bayou.”

  I smiled to reassure her. “We’ll be fine.”

  I took my food and moved to a corner under the overhang where several large picnic tables were located. I spotted an empty one and slid into a seat, keeping my back to the crowd. As I ate, I studied everyone who walked by, hoping to see someone who would either match the description of our suspect or who would be acting suspicious. I had no such luck.

  I was about to take the last bite of etouffee when a man approached from my right. He was short, mostly bald except for a wild patch of hair around the sides and back, and he
wore a business suit. He had just ordered a Coke and he seemed to be making a beeline toward my table, but he stopped to shake hands with everyone along the way. A true politician, I thought, trying to swallow my food so I could leave before he reached me. Again, I had no such luck.

  “Chief Investigator Clint Wolf.” The man adjusted his eyeglasses, stood back, and stared, as though admiring me.

  I wanted to puke.

  “I’ve heard a lot of good things about you, Chief.” He stuck out his hand. “I’m Lance Beaman, Candidate for Mayor.”

  “How’s it going?” I asked, not really caring.

  Beaman took that as an invitation to sit across from me. “I wanted to meet you and let you know some of my plans for the future of this great town. You see, I think it’s time we move this town into the—”

  “Look…” I stood and gathered up my trash. “I’m not interested in hearing your thoughts for the future of this town. If I have my way, Pauline Cain will be the future of this town.”

  Beaman’s eyes narrowed. “Are you sure you want to take sides in this election? The polls show I’m comfortably ahead, so you might want to consider that the next time you make such a comment. Also, I feel it necessary to remind you that yours is an appointed position. Come October, I might be deciding who I want to fill that spot, so it would be very wise of you to think really hard about who you want to support in the upcoming election.”

  I took a step closer and looked down at him. I could feel him shrink in his suit. “It would be very wise of you to think really hard about interrupting my dinner in the future.”

  Without waiting for him to respond, I turned and walked away, dropping my trash in a nearby drum. I saw Melvin in the faint glow of the lights from one of the rides and made my way to him. “Anything?” I asked.

  “No.” He rubbed a hand across his shaved head. “And no one seems to know Hulk and Blondie. The night crowd is usually different from the day crowd, so I’ve been trying to spread the word that there was a murder and asking everyone if they know someone fitting their descriptions. So far, no cigar.”