Clint Wolf Boxed Set: Books 4 - 6

by BJ Bourg

  Patricia disappeared up the steep flight of steps, while Junior stood on the dock waiting for us.

  Melvin pulled back on the throttle to slow our forward momentum just as we reached Junior, and the boat bumped to a stop against the wooden dock. I tossed the line to Junior and he grabbed it, tied it to a cleat on the dock. Once it was secure, he nodded for us to follow him.

  We did and when we reached the landing at the top of the stairs the back door to the camp opened and the entire deck shook when a large man stepped out. He wore overalls that were made from countless raccoon pelts. His legs looked like tree trunks and his arms were the size of my thighs. With calloused hands, he pushed back his long and matted hair.

  “Who is these men?” He was clearly not as educated as Patricia and Junior, but the lever-action rifle looked at home in his hands. The muzzle was leveled at my stomach. “Why they here?”

  Patricia’s eyes softened as she approached the huge man. She put one hand on his shoulder and lowered the rifle barrel with the other. “It’s okay, Dickie. These men are our friends. They came to bring word about Pops.”

  “Where Pops is at?” Dickie was looking past Patricia and staring directly into my eyes.

  I turned to Patricia, hoping she would answer, but I quickly averted my eyes when I noticed that her small breasts were clearly outlined by her wet shirt, which was now see-through. I noticed Melvin staring and I wanted to ask him how his wife, Claire, was doing but resisted the urge.

  I glanced around, wondering if Hilda would be appearing next. If I could at least make contact with her, we could settle that missing person—

  “Where Pops is at?” bellowed Dickie. “I want to see him now!”

  I glanced at Junior, who was tearing up.

  “Pops is gone,” Patricia said in a soothing voice.

  “When he’s coming back?”

  Patricia hesitated, then frowned. “He’s not coming back again, Dickie. He’s with Mother now.”

  “No! They not our friends!” Dickie lifted his rifle and aimed it right at me. “They took Pops and won’t give him back!”

  CHAPTER 14

  Mechant Loup Spring Festival

  Susan drove her right shoulder into Alastair’s ribs and she heard his lungs deflate with a grunt. He hit the ground hard. Before he knew what was happening, she jerked one arm behind his back and then the other. Smashing the fingers of both of his hands together with one hand, she removed her cuffs with the other and applied them in one smooth motion.

  “What the hell happened?” he asked, coughing as he tried to regain his breath.

  “You were hit by a truck,” called a middle-aged man, who was clearly drunk. His wife slugged him playfully in the arm.

  “It wasn’t a truck that hit him, it was a car—an orange one, at that.”

  “He hit the orange car, the car didn’t hit him. And after he hit the orange car, that’s when he was hit by the truck.” The man’s speech was slurred, but he knew what he wanted to say. He began to laugh. “The Chief was the truck. She plowed right over that idiot!”

  His wife began to laugh at him and they walked off, leaving Susan to do her job.

  Susan could hear that the band had stopped playing momentarily, so she quickly called for Takecia on the radio, giving her location and requesting that Takecia respond to transport Alastair to the police department.

  While waiting for Takecia, Susan made Alastair sit on his butt near the orange car and she took the owner’s information for the police report. Alastair soon realized she was taking a damage report and that he would be responsible.

  “Hey, wait a minute,” he protested. “That car hit me, so how am I responsible for the damage?”

  “You came out of nowhere and smashed into my car,” said the short, stout woman who had been driving the car. “What kind of grown man runs through a parking lot like that?”

  Susan stifled a chuckle, said, “You’re responsible for everything bad that happens while you’re resisting arrest.”

  “Resisting arrest? What am I being arrested for? I didn’t do a damn thing.”

  “You failed to appear in court for your domestic battery charges.”

  “But…” Alastair’s oversized forehead crinkled as the large man became thoughtful. While he didn’t look very smart, Susan knew something was floating around in that noggin of his. “How’d you know about that? How do you even know who I am?”

  “We’ll talk about that later.” Susan turned when she heard the humming of a car engine approaching and saw Takecia pull up in her marked patrol car. “For now, you’ll be heading to the police department with Officer Gayle.”

  Takecia walked over and helped Alastair to his feet, then secured him in the back seat of her cruiser. Once Takecia was gone, Susan finished collecting information from the victim of the damage and then headed for the portable toilets, where she found a bewildered Courtney Albert walking around. Susan wanted to ask Courtney if she didn’t think she was too old to be wearing those tiny shorts, but decided against it. Instead, she approached her and held out a hand.

  “Courtney Albert? I’m Chief Susan Wilson.” Susan shook Courtney’s slim hand firmly. “I guess you’re looking for your husband, Alastair?”

  Courtney’s expression turned to confusion. “Um, yes, but how did you know? And how do you know my name and his name?”

  “Well, I’ve got your husband at the police department.”

  Courtney’s mouth fell open. “Police department?” she echoed. “Why? What did he do? He was just right here.”

  “We have a warrant for his arrest for contempt of court. When I tried to arrest him, he resisted.”

  Courtney looked Susan up and down, then smirked. “Wait, are you telling me you arrested him all by yourself?”

  “I hate to break it to you, but it turns out your husband isn’t all that tough after all.” Susan frowned. “Why are you with him? There’s an active restraining order against him for beating you up, yet you’re out here acting like nothing’s wrong.”

  Tears formed in Courtney’s eyes. “It’s just…we have a child together, you know? She would never forgive me if I sent her dad to jail.”

  “You’re not sending her dad anywhere. He did it to himself.”

  “But how am I supposed to pay the bills while he’s in jail? I stay home and take care of our daughter while he works.”

  Susan made a mental note to give Courtney a lesson on reclaiming her independence, but at the moment she had work to do. “Well, he’s going to be locked up for a while, unless he can bond out, so you’ll have some time to think about your options. I need to head to the station to speak with him—”

  “Wait a minute—you’re serious!”

  “I’m very serious.”

  Courtney looked to the left and then to the right. “What am I supposed to do? I came here with him. He’s got the keys. I don’t even know how to get back home from this place. I’ve only been to Mechant Loup a couple of times before for the fair and I’ve never paid attention on the drive over here.”

  “I’ll give you a ride to my office,” Susan offered. “From there, we’ll get you the keys to your car and I can print up some directions to help get you back home.”

  “I can’t drive Al’s car. He’d never allow it.”

  “He doesn’t have a choice. It’s either you drive it or we have it towed from the fairgrounds.”

  “I’d rather you tow it.” She pulled a cell phone from where it was sticking out of her tight front pocket. “I can call my mom to come get me.”

  “Well, I’d still like you to come by the station with me.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

  Courtney’s brow furrowed. “About what? I haven’t done anything wrong.”

  “No, but you might’ve been the victim of an inappropriate touching.”

  “Do you mean by the guy working the ride? The giant swing ride?”

  Susan nodded.
“That’s the one.”

  “Yeah, that guy was a real creep! He rubbed his arm all up on my breasts as though it were some kind of accident.” She grunted. “He’s lucky Alastair didn’t find him.”

  “How do you know Alastair didn’t find him?”

  “Because we’d all know about it if he had.”

  Susan cocked her head slightly to the side. “How could we all possibly know about it?”

  “He would’ve killed that old pervert.”

  “Well, then,” Susan said slowly. “I think Alastair did find him.”

  Courtney’s face turned pale under her thick makeup. She hesitated as though she was afraid to ask the question, but she finally did. “Why…what makes you say that?”

  “Because someone did kill that old pervert.”

  CHAPTER 15

  The Chester Raymond Homestead

  While I knew I should’ve been scared at that moment—with the muzzle of Dickie’s rifle just inches from my face—I calmly stared into his wild eyes with only two things on my mind. First, I figured he wouldn’t do a thing without Patricia’s approval. Second, I wanted to know more about what had happened to Hilda.

  “Dickie, put down the gun.” Patricia’s voice was soothing and stern, all at the same time, as though she was speaking to a child.

  “But he took Pops and he won’t bring him back.”

  The muzzle of the rifle dipped a little. I knew I could snatch the rifle from his grip in an instant, but I remained patient, allowing Patricia to do her thing. After all, I needed their cooperation and didn’t want to do anything to make them angry.

  In my peripheral vision, I could see Melvin’s hand on his pistol. I knew if he thought for a second that Dickie would pull the trigger, he would draw his gun and end the man’s life immediately. I was really hoping he didn’t think Dickie would pull the trigger.

  “Come on, Dickie, give me your rifle,” Patricia was saying. “It’s okay. I’m going to find Pops and bring him back, one way or the other.”

  Dickie let out a weird grunting sound and lowered his head in a deep pout. He handed his rifle to Patricia and turned to walk inside, where I was sure he was going to sulk.

  “I’m sorry about that,” Patricia said. “I hope you don’t plan on arresting him for assault. He doesn’t handle his emotions well.”

  “You seem to be able to handle him,” I said. “He listens to you.”

  “Not always.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh out loud, more from exasperation than humor. “You mean you didn’t know if you could talk him down?”

  She sighed. “I wasn’t sure.”

  “Damn, I gave you more credit than I should have.” The smile quickly left my face and I followed Patricia to a homemade picnic table on the upper deck and sat across from her. “Before we discuss your father, can I ask what happened to your mother? Hilda’s her name, right?”

  One of Patricia’s red eyebrows rose high on her forehead. “And how would you know that?”

  “I read a report that was filed by your grandfather, Alf Aguillard. He claimed your mother was missing.”

  Patricia’s eyes softened and she lowered her head. “I love Gramps. We haven’t seen him in years. My father was convinced Gramps would try and take us away and force us to live with other people. He said the state would take us away if they found out we weren’t attending their schools, so we had to stay away from town until we turned eighteen. I went to see Gramps with my mother a few times before she died, but he didn’t understand my father’s way of life and I didn’t like the way he spoke about him. Gramps felt like you had to work for some company to get ahead in life and make a living. He never did realize we were the ones who were truly living, while he was a slave to his job.”

  “If you don’t mind me asking, why’d your dad object to y’all going to school in town?”

  “My father didn’t trust anyone who wasn’t family.” Patricia asked me to excuse her and she disappeared inside for a few minutes.

  I glanced over at Melvin, who was keeping a watchful eye on Junior.

  When Patricia returned, there was a map in her hands. She unfolded it and pointed to a small island west of Lake Berg. “This used to be our family’s land until the state came in and stole it. They said the island was no longer habitable, so they moved in and forced everyone off the island. Moved them to a tiny piece of wasteland in Eastern Chateau. There were no waterways, no swamps—just a large piece of dry and barren land.” She paused to shake her head. “My father’s parents were having none of it. They took my father, his four brothers, and his three sisters and headed east through the thickest swamps they could find. They wanted to make sure no one would follow them. They kept going deeper and deeper until they found this piece of property, and this is where they settled.”

  I started to ask a question, but Patricia stabbed at the map and interrupted me. “Do you know the real crime here?”

  “What’s that?”

  “They turned the island into a tourist attraction.”

  I leaned close and squinted at the blip on the map, suddenly recognizing what it was. I remembered wandering off in that direction back when I was doing swamp tours. There was a restaurant, a shrimp shed, and some souvenir shops on the tiny island.

  “You know the place.” Patricia said it more as an accusation than an observation.

  “I do. I’ve been there before…briefly.”

  “Imagine someone coming in and stealing your home under false pretenses. Only then might you understand why my father would not want me attending school in your town.”

  I couldn’t argue with that.

  “You sound very educated,” I said. “If you didn’t go to school…?”

  “I read a lot.”

  I looked out in the direction of the boardwalks, not able to see very far because of the dense cypress forest. “The boardwalks—do they lead to more camps? Is that where your dad’s sisters and brothers branched out?”

  Patricia hesitated, wondering if she had already said too much. Finally, she nodded. “They’re out there, minding their business and making a living off the land like we do. They don’t bother anyone, just like we don’t bother anyone. We only ask to be left alone.”

  “I can respect that.” I leaned my arms on the rough and splintery picnic table. “So, what happened to your mom?”

  “She passed away.”

  I apologized, but Patricia waved me off.

  “It was a long time ago, maybe ten years.”

  I cocked my head to the side. “Um, did y’all have a service? A funeral?” I glanced out over the soupy swamps. “There’s no way y’all buried her out here.”

  “We have our own cemetery…our own way of doing things.”

  My mind began racing, wondering what else they were doing out here in their “own way”. They couldn’t just bury a dead person in the back yard anymore. There were procedures that had to be followed. Deaths had to be reported and investigated. Death certificates had to be filed and vital statistics had to be maintained. As far as anyone knew, Hilda Raymond was still alive and well, and that wasn’t cool. Laws had been broken and there could be legal consequences. I decided against sharing that information with Patricia. Instead, I opted to ask her how her mom had died.

  “She took ill. We all cared for her in shifts. Junior took the boat into town and bought some medicine, but it wasn’t enough. We couldn’t break her fever and she ended up passing away in the night while she was sleeping.”

  “Why didn’t y’all bring her to a doctor?” I winced inwardly when I realized my tone had been judgmental. She didn’t seem to notice.

  “I already told you…my father didn’t trust the townspeople.” She lowered her head and frowned deeply. “I guess he was right not to. I just don’t understand why he kept going to work for that fair.”

  We all sat quiet for a long moment, and then I told her the coroner would have to perform an autopsy—surprisingly, she knew what an autopsy was—and I
explained the procedures for claiming Chester’s body.

  “Will you allow us to bring his body back here to be buried with my mother?”

  I pondered her question, staring deep into her soft eyes. There was pain in those eyes, that I could see, but there was also a determination that made me shudder just a little. Something told me I didn’t want to be on the wrong side of a dispute with her and her brothers.

  “I won’t try to stop you,” was all I said.

  CHAPTER 16

  Two hours later…

  “I’m not going to lie,” Melvin said, wiping a stream of swamp water from his face as he pushed the boat’s engine as fast as it would go. “I was happy to leave that creepy place. I swear, I thought they were going to kill us and bury us out there. And did you see Patricia’s clothes? She didn’t even care that we could see right through her wet shirt. The weirdest thing I’ve ever seen.”

  I nodded and turned to stare toward the Forbidden Swamps that were slowly fading to solid black on the horizon. I was still shocked by what we had found. I never expected to find a whole family of folks living off the land as they did. Before we’d left, Patricia had told us there were lush patches of high land scattered throughout the swamps where grass grew thick enough to keep a small herd of cattle fed.

  “And how much do you want to bet they rustled those cows?” Melvin continued. “There’s no way they just stumbled upon them running wild in the swamps. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised to find some of Sheriff Turner’s cattle in their herd. I heard he’s had a half dozen head that disappeared over the past three years, never to be seen again. I bet the Raymond clan got them, and that’s why she never offered to let us see the herd. Hell, she showed us all those chickens laying eggs and the wild pigs they kept for meat. Why not take us to the cow pasture?”