by BJ Bourg
I waved at the men, but they didn’t wave back. Norm navigated the boat to the pier and was about to tie off when a booming voice sounded from the upper floor of the stairway to the right. “No need to disembark, sheriff. You’re not invited onto my private property.”
The six men had moved to the edge of the porch railing and stared down at us. While they weren’t pointing their weapons in our direction, their lack of concern for our authority was evident.
I glanced to the right and saw three men descending the white stairway. The man in the middle was the oldest of the three and—according to the mug shot Dawn had printed out—was Wellman Boudreaux. He wore a camouflage cap and a collared shirt. The men flanking him were young, with short blond hair, and each wore white T-shirts. I recognized Septime on the right and Maxille on the left from the photos in their files.
I glanced down at their waistlines and saw that each man had a holster strapped to their belts. The boys were armed with semi-automatic pistols, but Wellman had an old six-shooter in his holster. The bottom of the holster was tied to his leg by a piece of leather and I smiled my appreciation. The man knew the importance of the quick-draw.
I waited until they reached the landing and were several feet from the boat before I spoke. I introduced us and pointed toward the trees past his house. “We’re working a sniper-style murder that happened on your property early yesterday morning.”
“I heard about that.” Wellman rolled his tongue across his dry lips. “What’s that got to do with us?”
“We just need a word with you and your boys, since it happened on your property.”
“You can speak from where you are.”
“We’d like it if y’all came down to the sheriff’s office with us,” I said. “We’d like to record the—”
“We’re not going anywhere. You have something to ask, ask it here and now.”
He had the right not to come with us, and I respected that fact. It didn’t help me solve my case, but those were the rules. “Where were you yesterday morning, at sunrise?”
Wellman shot a thumb over his shoulder. “Sitting in that white rocker up on the second level, drinking some Community Coffee. Anything else?”
I turned to Maxille. “What about you?”
“I was right here with him.”
“Me, too,” Septime responded without waiting for me to ask.
“Other than the three of you, can anyone else verify each of your whereabouts?”
“The three of us will have to do,” Wellman said. “Now, if there’s nothing else…”
“Actually, I’d love to know if you noticed any of your lines cut yesterday.”
Wellman’s face turned red. “I did, and I didn’t appreciate it one bit.”
“Do you know who did it?”
“I have my ideas.”
“Care to share them with me?” I asked.
Wellman shook his head. “I don’t need the law’s help to handle my own business.”
“Right, because you handle your own business.”
“Like any man would.”
“I’m not a man,” Dawn interjected, “and I handle my business just fine.”
Wellman was caught off guard by her comment, and I quickly asked, “Was shooting Norris Simoneaux in the head your idea of handling your own business?”
He didn’t even flinch. “I didn’t shoot that boy in the head, but I would if I caught him messing with my lines.”
I glanced up at the guy with the scoped rifle. The dark, round sunglasses didn’t allow me to see his eyes. His dark hair was slicked back and his goatee neatly trimmed. He wore a flannel shirt and a dark jacket, although it wasn’t cool enough for one. “What about you, Slick?” I asked. “Did you shoot Norris Simoneaux in the head with that rifle?”
The man didn’t speak, nor did he move. He just stood there staring down at me—or so it seemed. I couldn’t be sure where his eyes were focused.
“Why the firepower and extra hands?” I asked, turning back to Wellman. “This seems a bit excessive.”
“A little mosquito floated over this way and whispered in my ear. Told me Frank Simoneaux blamed me for killing his boy. Said Frank was building an army to take us out. From what I hear, them boys have been stealing our gators for years, and now they want our land.” Wellman tapped the grip of his pistol. “Well, if it’s a fight Frank Simoneaux wants, he’s coming to the right place. I’ve got my own army, and they don’t shy away from nothing.”
“So, a minute ago you acted like you weren’t sure who cut your lines, but you actually did know it was the Boudreaux boys, because this little gnat or mosquito told you so, isn’t that right?”
“That’ll be all,” Wellman said. “You’ve asked your questions and we’ve been cooperative, but I won’t be called a liar. There’s nothing more to say.”
I nodded slowly and reached into my pocket with my left hand. I could see Slick’s right hand tighten around his rifle, but he relaxed when I pulled out my phone. Without saying a word, and using only my left hand, I flipped to the camera feature on my phone. When it was ready, I lifted it and snapped a picture of Slick.
“You can’t do that,” Wellman hollered, and I caught movement in my peripheral vision as he reached for his revolver. His gun had barely cleared the holster when I shoved the muzzle of my Beretta toward his face.
I felt the boat shift as Dawn drew her Glock and Norm dove for cover. Wellman’s sons were clawing for their holsters, but I yelled at them to stop or I’d kill their dad. They froze and stared at Wellman, as though waiting for him to tell them what to do.
From the corner of my eye, I saw the five men on the porch aiming their shotguns down at us. Slick hadn’t moved an inch.
“Put the gun down, Wellman,” I said. “You’re under arrest.”
Wellman hesitated, his revolver dangling from his hand. “You’ve violated the law, sheriff,” Wellman said. “It’s an invasion of my privacy for you to take a picture of my property without my express consent. All I did was attempt to protect my property.”
“You might own the land,” I explained, “but you don’t own the water. I can sit on this lake and take as many pictures of your property as I want and there ain’t a damn thing you can do about it. And if you’re so educated on the law, you’d know you can’t use deadly force to protect your property.”
I saw confusion fall over his face and I leapt from the boat to the pier. “Now, this is the last time I’m saying it, Wellman…drop your gun. You’re under arrest for aggravated assault with a firearm.”
“Our fight’s not with him, Mr. Boudreaux,” Slick called down from the upstairs porch. His voice was sturdy and cool. “Just go along without trouble. I’ll get you out before they even finish the paperwork.”
Wellman pursed his lips, as though weighing his chances of shooting me before I got him.
“Wellman, if you take us down that road,” Dawn called from behind me, “your men might get us, but I’m going to kill your youngest son before I go.”
Wellman’s shoulders slumped and the revolver slid from his fingers. Moving forward, I holstered my pistol and spun him around and onto his knees. After cuffing his hands behind his back, I escorted him to the boat and helped him inside. Dawn kept her pistol aimed at Maxille the entire time it took for Norm to fire up the motor and back the boat away from the pier.
Once we were safely through the Cut and had entered the waters of Bayou Magnolia, Dawn relaxed and holstered her pistol. She sat beside me and looked me in the eyes. “That was a close one,” she said, leaning close so only I could hear.
I nodded my agreement and kept an eye on our surroundings. I didn’t trust Slick or any of Wellman’s sons, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they tried to break him out while we were on the water.
CHAPTER 13
The ride to the boat launch was uneventful, but when Dawn and I escorted Wellman Boudreaux from the boat to her cruiser, we were ambushed by a reporter from the Daily Magnolia Times. H
e was short, bald, and wore thick glasses. He introduced himself simply as Larry and shoved a recorder in Dawn’s face.
“Sergeant Luke,” he said. “Is this man the killer sniper? Is he the one who killed the alligator hunter?”
Wellman lunged at the reporter, but Dawn grabbed his arm and jerked him back. Unable to hit the reporter, he stood there snarling. “I didn’t kill anyone, you little piece of shit!”
Unmoved, Larry again asked Dawn if he was the one who killed Norris Simoneaux.
“I don’t usually comment on ongoing investigations,” Dawn said. “But I will say that this arrest is on an unrelated case.”
He thanked Dawn and turned back toward the growing number of protestors who were gathered near the pier. I watched him walk in that direction and saw Shannon standing there watching us. He waved when I saw him and then turned back to his followers.
I grunted and climbed into the back seat beside Wellman and settled in for the drive to the substation. When we arrived, Dawn and I met with Wellman in an interview room and I removed the cuffs from his wrists.
After Dawn read him his rights, she ran through the same questions we asked at his house, and received the same answers. She looked over at me and I leaned forward.
“Why’s an alligator hunter hiring mercenaries?” I asked.
Wellman’s eyes widened for a split second, but he recovered nicely. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
“That slick bastard up on your porch,” I said. “He’s no hunter and he’s no regular Joe. Why’s he on your payroll?”
“I’ve got lots of money and property. When you’re as rich as I am, there are people who want to take your stuff.” He leaned back and rubbed his wrists and flexed his hands, as though trying to get the blood circulating again. “You know how to keep them from taking your stuff? You hire a good security detail—and every security detail has to have a leader.”
“So, does this leader have a name?”
Wellman eyeballed me. “Why do you want to know my guy’s name?”
“I want to make sure he’s not the type of person who’ll start shooting people to protect your interests.”
“Who—Patrick?” He waved his hand dismissively. “He’s no murderer.”
“Does Patrick have a last name?” Dawn asked.
“I’m sure he does.” Wellman crossed his arms in front of his chest and sat there staring from Dawn to me. “Is there anything else I can help you two with? If not, I’d like to get the hell out of here. I already told you, we didn’t kill Frank’s boy.”
“For starters, you can tell us Patrick’s last name,” I said.
“You’d have to ask him that question. Anything else?”
“How long has Patrick been your head of security?”
He shrugged. “Not sure. You’d have to ask my bookkeeper.”
“Where’s he from?”
“Why do you keep asking about my head of security?” Wellman asked. “Do you want his job?”
“Not hardly, but if he’s above board, why do you feel the need to keep his last name a secret?”
“I’m not required by law to answer any of your questions, and I’m going to exercise my right to keep my mouth shut—”
A knock at the door interrupted him. Dawn leaned over and twisted the knob, pulling it open. It was Becky, the secretary for the substation. “Dawn, there’s someone here to bail out Mr. Boudreaux. He says he’s got cash and he’s demanding to see him immediately.”
“That’s it,” Wellman exclaimed. “I’m done. Can I go now?”
Dawn thanked Becky and asked her to tell the man to have a seat and wait. Becky nodded and hurried off. Wellman stood and rubbed his hands together. “Okay, I’m ready to leave,” he said.
I pointed to his chair. “Contrary to what Slick Patrick said, you’re not going anywhere until we finish the paperwork, so settle in for a long wait.”
Dawn asked me to step outside of the interview room for a minute. When we were alone in the hallway, she asked if I suspected this Patrick fellow.
“He looks like a professional,” I said, “and that sniper rifle was at home in his hands.”
“Do you think Wellman’s bringing in hired guns to take over the entire island?”
“It could be.”
She chewed on her bottom lip and her eyes narrowed. I found myself wondering if there was ever a time when she wasn’t beautiful, but then pushed the thought from my head. The last thing I needed was another Sally on my hands.
“Damn, London, we could have a mini war on our hands. Both sides are building armies and they think the other side is out to get them.” She shook her head. “If they start fighting, there’s going to be a lot of bloodshed.”
“And we’re going to have to shut them down.”
She was quiet for a few more seconds and then said, “We need to know who we’re dealing with. Why don’t you go talk to this scary man while I finish the arrest report? Try to find out as much as you can about this Patrick fellow.”
Liking her idea, I hurried to the kitchen and snatched up the phone, buzzed Becky. When she answered, I asked how many people had come in to pick up Wellman.
“Just one guy,” she whispered. “A scary-looking man with sunglasses. He didn’t even take them off when he came inside.”
I hung up and bought two cold drinks from the machine. I stopped in the evidence processing room for a minute and then walked to the lobby. When I pushed through the door, I immediately saw Patrick standing beside the main entrance with his arms folded across his chest. He was wearing the same clothes from earlier and those dark sunglasses were still resting on the bridge of his nose.
I smiled and handed him one of the drinks. “Wellman won’t be long,” I explained. “They’re finishing up the paperwork as we speak.”
Patrick didn’t uncross his arms to accept the drink. Instead, he simply shook his head. I shrugged and dropped into one of the chairs. I put the extra drink aside and opened the other, taking a long swig from it before looking over at Patrick. He didn’t have his rifle, but there was a bulge under the front of his shirt and I knew he was packing.
I pointed to it. “You got permit for that?”
“I don’t need a permit for a money clip.”
“That’s a pretty big money clip.”
“I’m paid well for my services.”
I nodded, staring up at him knowingly. “Yeah, murder’s a lucrative business.”
“Listen here, partner…” Patrick stepped forward and removed his sunglasses to look me directly in the eye. “I’m not a murderer for hire. I’m a protection specialist, which means I protect people. And just in case you were wondering, I’m damn good at what I do.”
“You have a quick temper, don’t you?” When he didn’t answer, I stood slowly and matched his gaze with my own. “As a protection specialist, are you proactive in your approach to protecting your client?”
Patrick’s jaw hardened. “Meaning?”
“Would you murder someone you thought might be a future threat to your client?”
“I thought I’d already made the distinction—I’m a protector, not a murderer. I would take a life to protect my clients, but only as a last resort.”
“Well, then,” I said, grinning and sticking out my hand. “We’re exactly the same—you and I—and, as long as you stick to doing your job, you won’t have any problems with this office.”
Patrick’s eyes narrowed in suspicion and he didn’t reach for my hand.
“I tell you what,” I said, keeping my hand extended. “As a show of good faith and in exchange for you keeping a lid on things down south—you know, by not letting those boys go off shooting up the Simoneaux bunch—what would you say if I dropped the assault charges against your boss?”
The hard lines on Patrick’s face softened a bit, but he was still uncertain and he didn’t say a word.
“And you can tell him you orchestrated the whole deal,” I offered. “There m
ay even be a bonus in it for you, considering he won’t have to spend the thousands of dollars it would cost to mount a criminal defense for pulling a gun on a cop.”
“If I agree to this, you have to understand I still reserve the right to protect my client. I won’t draw first blood, but I’ll drain the last of theirs if they come after my client or his family.”
“Of course,” I said. “You absolutely have the right to defend yourself. I’m just asking that you keep your men on their side of the fence while I sort out this investigation.”
“Put it in writing and you’ve got yourself a deal,” Patrick said, taking my hand firmly in his. He immediately withdrew his hand and his eyes widened. “You son of a bitch! You tricked me.”
“Not at all,” I said smoothly. “I’ll immediately release your client on his own recognizant and contact the district attorney’s office with a request to drop all charges.”
Patrick’s face was red and his eyes were mere slits. I smiled again and walked out of the lobby, leaving him standing there seething with anger.
CHAPTER 14
Once Wellman and Patrick were gone, Dawn met me in the evidence processing center. “You mind telling me why we just released that piece of shit? He pulled a gun on you!”
“I needed Patrick to shake my hand,” I explained.
Dawn’s brow furrowed and she glanced down at the strip of fingerprint tape on the table. “What’s that?”
I pointed to the back of my right hand below my pinky. “I put that strip of tape right where his fingers would make contact.”
Dawn’s mouth dropped open. “Holy shit! That’s a great idea!”
“I used the Coke as a decoy, knowing he wouldn’t go for something so obvious.” I grinned. “Kind of like combination fingerprinting—the Coke was my jab, but he blocked it, and I dropped him with my cross. Of course, now I have to hold up my end of the bargain, and that means dropping all charges against Wellman.”
