by BJ Bourg
“Anything?” Dawn asked from inside the truck.
“Everything seems quiet.” I lowered the binos and keyed up my police radio. “Jerry, are y’all in place?”
“Ten-four. We’ve got every window in the front of the house covered. You’re good to go.”
“Okay, we’re going in.” I dropped the radio and stepped into the driver’s seat. “Keep your eyes peeled.”
Nodding, Dawn slipped off her seatbelt and put her hand on her pistol. I took a deep breath before turning onto the long and winding driveway and cruised to the back of the house. I stopped beside the house and we dismounted. I looked toward the carport where the boat shed was located.
“Wait here,” I said.
Keeping my eyes trained on the side windows of the house, I hurried toward the carport and stopped just outside the shed. The door was closed, but unlocked. I eased it open and slipped inside, glancing around the dark enclosure. Other than a flatboat squatting on a boat trailer, it was empty. I made my way to the stern side and squatted near the outboard motor, feeling for the propeller. I grunted when I felt a patch of seaweed still clinging to the blades…it was wet.
I hurried back to the door and peeked outside before stepping into the daylight. Taking long strides and keeping my eyes on the back of the house, I returned to where Dawn was waiting.
“Anything?” she asked.
“There’s seaweed on the propeller and it’s still wet.”
She nodded. “This is it.”
I radioed Jerry and asked if there had been any movement.
“All is quiet.”
I gave the thumbs up and we walked to the front door. It was solid wood and stained dark brown. I didn’t see a peephole.
I stood on one side of the door and Dawn stood on the other. Our hands were inches from our pistols, not knowing what to expect. With my left hand, I banged loudly on the door and held my breath. Nothing. I waited about thirty seconds, but still nothing happened. I leaned forward and knocked again, this time harder.
Dawn brushed at a fly that was buzzing between us. I felt sweat building on my temples. I glanced at Dawn. She shrugged. I leaned forward to knock again, but the knob suddenly turned. I nearly jerked my pistol out of my holster, but recovered quickly when the door opened and Roger stood there, wearing nothing but shorts. He was drying his wet hair with a towel and he looked surprised to see us.
“Hey, Mr. London, how are you?”
“I’m good, Roger.”
He looked over his shoulder into the house, and then turned back to face me. “How’s it going?”
“Where’s Lily?” I asked.
“School. She doesn’t get home until after three.”
“Can we come in?”
He scowled and looked past us, scanning the driveway. “Where’s my dad?”
I hesitated for a minute, then feigned surprise. “Oh, you don’t know?”
“Know what?”
“Where’ve you been, son?”
Roger stopped drying his hair and let the towel dangle at his side. “I’ve been here—at home. I just woke up. Why? What’s going on? Where’s my dad?”
“Are you sure you’ve been here at home?” I pointed past him toward the back of the house. “What if I told you there was wet seaweed on your boat’s propeller? That would be weird, right?”
Roger shrugged. “How would I know about wet seaweed if I was inside sleeping, Mr. London?”
He was cool, and I appreciated that. “Can we come inside and talk?”
“Sure.” He stepped back to allow us through, but I waved for him to lead the way. He did, and we followed him toward the back of the house and into the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator and took out a can of cola. “Want something to drink?”
Dawn and I both declined, and then the three of us sat at the table. Roger sat at the head of the table facing the kitchen window and Dawn and I flanked him. I waited for him to take a sip of his drink.
“Roger, where were you last night?”
He placed the Coke down on the table. “I was home all night. You can ask Lily.”
“What time did you leave this morning?”
“Like I already told you, Mr. London, I was home all day. I never left.”
“Are you saying you weren’t out on Devil’s Lake today?”
“No, sir—I wasn’t on the lake.”
“Where’s your dad’s old rifle?”
“How would I know? He doesn’t let me touch his guns. You’d have to ask him.”
“I know he let you shoot it.” I leaned my forearms on the table. “And I know you took that rifle to the island Thursday and killed a good man named Norris.” I studied his eyes, but they were stone. “I also know you went back out to the island Saturday and killed an innocent girl named Joyce. You shot both of them through the head with your dad’s rifle.”
Roger looked around the kitchen—squinting against the light that flooded in through the window—and leaned close to me. “Where’s my dad? Why isn’t he here?”
“You really don’t know, do you?”
“I know I don’t have his rifle and I know I didn’t kill anyone. I also know I was home all day and I’m leaving for the military at the end of the month.” Roger’s hand seemed to shake when he reached for his Coke and took another sip.
“Son, that man you shot this morning…that was your dad. You killed your own father—shot him through the head.”
Roger choked on his Coke and spat a mouthful of the liquid across the table. He stared wide-eyed at me, his face twisted in horror. He turned slowly to look at Dawn and then back at me. After a long moment, his face relaxed a little and he let out a nervous laugh. “Wait a minute—you’re messing with me, aren’t you?” He nodded his head. “Yeah, you are. Like I said, I didn’t kill anybody. My dad’s in on this, ain’t he? This is a trick.”
“Roger, I wish this was a trick, but it’s not.” I frowned. “This is as real and tragic as it gets. I know you didn’t realize it was your dad because his face was hooded, but he recognized you. That’s why he raised his head and inadvertently gave away his position. He couldn’t kill his own flesh and blood. No good father could ever mentally prepare himself for that horrible deed.”
Tears welled up in Roger’s eyes and began flowing freely down his face as he realized what he’d done. His chin trembled and his voice shook when he said, “I don’t believe you, Mr. London. That man was not my dad.”
I pulled out my phone and slid it across the table to him. “Go ahead and call him, but I promise you he won’t answer—ever. He’ll never answer your call again.” I felt my voice starting to rise in anger, so I took a moment to calm down. When I thought I could speak again without cursing him out, I said, “You messed up bad, son. You didn’t just kill your dad, but you killed my friend. And worse than that, you took everything away from Lily. You left her all alone.”
Kicking his chair back, Roger jumped to his feet and cried hysterically. “I’m sorry…I’m so sorry! I didn’t want to do it anymore! I wanted out, but he told me he’d kill Lily if I didn’t do what he said.”
“You wanted out of what, son?” I stood beside him and put a hand on his shoulder. “Who made you do this?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he just stood there crying. I couldn’t help but notice how much he looked like a little boy.
A little boy…
Right at that moment it hit me—he was way too young to be the Trinity Sniper.
What happened next was a blur. In one fleeting instance, I heard glass break, felt speckles of stabbing pain against the side of my face, and saw Roger’s head stretch and contort in a freakish manner. He collapsed straight down and was dead before he hit the hardwood floor. Without even thinking, I dove over the table and threw myself into Dawn, sending both of us crashing to the ground.
CHAPTER 42
“What the hell was that?” Jerry called over the radio.
I fumbled for my radio and hollered, “There’s a seco
nd shooter! Roger’s down, and the shooter is out back.”
Dawn pushed me toward the kitchen counter, where there was more cover. The front door burst open and Ray came barreling inside—staying low and holding his sniper rifle at the ready. It was bright inside, so I drew my pistol and fired two shots at the kitchen lights. Glass from the fluorescent bulbs rained down on us and sparks flew, but the room was cloaked in darkness. The explosion in the enclosed space hurt all the way to my eardrums and my ears began to ring.
Ray’s voice sounded muffled as he shouted into the radio, communicating with Jerry. I felt naked without my rifle, so I told Dawn to stay put and I darted through the house, heading straight for the front door. When I reached it, I button-hooked around the door frame and sprinted for my truck. Once there, I pulled my rifle from the drag bag. I flipped open the scope caps, took a deep breath. I hadn’t heard another shot, so I keyed up my radio. “Jerry, do you see anything?”
“Negative. The shot came from the tree line in the back of the house, but I think the shooter’s gone.”
Crouching low, I ran toward the back carport. I dropped in a prone position near a line of thick shrubs. I maneuvered on my belly until I found an opening through the shrubs and could see through to the tree line at the end of the property.
I cursed when I saw Patrick running straight for the line of trees. He’s going to get himself killed!
My field of view through the thick leaves was too narrow, so I rolled out from behind the shrubs and set up beside them, quickly attaining proper eye relief and scanning the shadows of the trees. I couldn’t make out a threat, but that didn’t mean one wasn’t there.
“Sierra One, are you set up back here?” Jerry asked.
Cursing myself for not strapping on my throat mic, I pulled out my radio with my left hand. “Ten-four, I’ve got a visual of the tree line.”
“See anything?”
“Negative. You?”
“Nope.”
Patrick had made it to the tree line and disappeared into the shadows. I watched for several tense minutes, not moving a muscle. The radio was silent. Other than the cool breeze rustling the leaves beside me, a light ringing in my ears, and some crickets chirping, I didn’t hear a sound. I was a sniper. Patience was my virtue. I could’ve waited there all day and night if I had to, but I didn’t.
After about ten minutes, Patrick reemerged from the trees with his rifle slung over his shoulder. As though he could feel our scopes on him, he shook his head and mouthed the words, “He got away.”
He seemed certain, but I remained in position covering him until he reached the carport. At that time, I stood and rested my rifle on my shoulder. “Any idea who we’re dealing with?”
He shook his head. “Bastard was gone by the time I got there. It looks like he took one shot and hauled ass.”
Jerry walked up. “Are we thinking they were working together?”
I was thoughtful. According to everything I’d learned from Patrick, Roger was too young to be the Trinity Sniper. So, either the Trinity Sniper had recruited help and then killed Roger to tie up that loose end, or this case wasn’t even related to the Trinity Sniper murders. I voiced my thoughts and Patrick sighed. “I’ve got no idea what’s going on anymore, London. I really don’t.”
A thought crawled into my brain and squatted there for a second. I grunted. “Shannon Reed is old enough to be the Trinity Sniper, and he knows rifles.”
“The guy who stole Mr. Boudreaux’s boat?”
I nodded and called the sheriff on my phone. After fielding a dozen questions about Roger’s involvement and subsequent murder, I asked if he could send a team down Little Bayou to locate Shannon. “He’s supposed to be staying with a guy named Gary Allain in a camp north of Pelican Pass.”
“Is he dangerous?” the sheriff asked. “I mean, if he’s our guy, shouldn’t you be going after him?”
“If he’s home, he’s not the killer. If he is the killer, he’s not home. Either way, they’ll be fine. Just let me know what they find when they get there.”
“Will do.” He started to hang up and then stopped. “Oh, and keep me posted on what’s happening on your end.”
After agreeing to do so, I made my way back inside Dean’s house and found Dawn squatting over Roger’s body. She looked up when I walked in. Her eyes were misty. “That poor little girl,” she said. “What will she do now that her dad and brother are gone?”
“We need to let her know what’s going on.”
She nodded. “I’ll have a team of crime scene detectives respond to process this scene so we can make contact with Lily as soon as possible. I don’t want her hearing about it on some social media site or through the school.”
While Dawn made some phone calls, I asked Jerry and Ray to secure the area until the crime scene detectives could arrive.
“There’s a team on the way,” Dawn said, shoving her phone in her back pocket. She paused momentarily and just stared at me.
“What’s up?”
Without saying a word, she walked across the kitchen and stood inches from me, studying my face. She then reached up and slid her fingers lightly across the left side of my face. “You’re bleeding. Were you hit?”
I reached up and our hands brushed together as I felt the source of the stinging pain. “It’s just shards of glass. I’ll be fine.”
“We can’t have Lily seeing you like this. It might upset her more.” She took me by the wrist and guided me toward the door. “Get your first aid kit so I can get you cleaned up.”
“I’ll take care of it,” I said. “I don’t need anyone looking after me.”
She started to object, but clamped her mouth shut and nodded. “Okay, just take care of it before we meet with Lily.”
I silently cursed myself as she walked away. What the hell was wrong with me? A beautiful and intelligent woman was trying to take care of me and I’d turned her away. Truth was I didn’t like anyone looking after me. I was self-sufficient and could take care of myself, but I should’ve told Dawn how much I appreciated the offer. I started to call after her, but it was too late to not sound awkward.
I was still cursing myself as I wiped my face with a sterile wipe. I was just about done when a team of detectives arrived and piled out of the crime scene van. Dawn led them into the house and began handing out assignments. I waited for her to finish and then we got into my truck and headed toward South Magnolia High to meet with Lily.
We hadn’t gone a mile when my phone rang. It was the substation, so I answered.
“London,” one of the dispatchers began, her voice high, “Lieutenant Buzz Landry is on the line. Go ahead, Lieutenant Landry.”
“Hey, London, I need you to meet me in the area of Thirty-Nine Twenty-Six Highway Three in Gracetown pronto. We’re on the bayou side.”
“Can it wait?” I asked. “I’m heading to the high school to do a death notification.”
“You’re going to want to see this.” Buzz took a deep breath and exhaled. “A couple of kids found a woman’s body along the banks of Bayou Magnolia. It looks like she was tossed out of a car and then rolled down the embankment.”
“Can someone else handle it?”
“No, I think you’re going to want to handle this one.”
“Sorry, Buzz, but I’m real busy at the moment.”
“London, the dead woman…she’s Sally Piatkowski.”
CHAPTER 43
South Magnolia High School
Dawn hesitated in the parking lot, her knuckles white from gripping the steering wheel of London’s truck. After dropping London off at the death scene—and promising to return later to help with the investigation—she had driven straight to the high school. Now that she was here, she found it especially hard to step out of the truck.
Death notifications were the absolute worst part of her job, and she had no clue how to break the news to Lily. London had conveyed how close Dean and his children were, and she was well aware that the news would dest
roy Lily. How do you tell a young girl that her brother killed her father and then a mystery man killed her brother?
“God help me,” Dawn whispered as she exited the truck and quickly strode across the bright parking lot. It was a little after two, so the bell to end school would be ringing at any time. She wanted to catch Lily before she boarded the bus to go home.
As Dawn made her way up the large concrete steps at the front of the school, she wondered what had happened to Sally. That a fellow detective had been murdered—preliminary findings indicated she’d been strangled—was alarming. What was more troubling was the fact that Sally could handle herself in a fight and she was an expert with her pistol. How on earth had someone managed to strangle her to death and escape with their life? As she pondered this, she couldn’t help but wonder if her murder was connected to the sniper killings.
A tall blonde lady was working in the office. Dawn showed the lady her identification and asked to speak with Lily.
“Can I ask what it’s about?”
“It’s police business,” was all Dawn said.
The lady nodded and moved to a desk in the corner. She made a few phone calls before telling Dawn that Lily was on her way to the office.
“Is there a place we can sit when she gets here?” Dawn asked. “Somewhere private?”
“You can use the vice principal’s office. He’s not in.”
Dawn nodded her thanks and paced back and forth in front of the counter. She whirled around when the door opened and Lily walked in with a pink schoolbag slung over one shoulder. Her hair was pulled back in a barrette and she smiled when she saw Dawn.
“Hey, Ms. Dawn, what’s up?”
Dawn forced a smile. “Hey, Lily, I need to speak with you in private.”
Lily’s smile faded and she looked around the waiting area. “Why? Is something wrong?”
“Let’s go in the office where we can speak in private.”
Dawn took her by the arm and led her into the vice principal’s office, where they sat beside each other on a small sofa. Lily was hesitant. “What is it? Why are you here to see me?”
