London Carter Boxed Set: Books 1 - 3

by BJ Bourg

  The man fell awkwardly to the floor, sending several unsuspecting people sprawling as he crashed into them. Some of them cursed and one man—obviously a friend of the asshole—hollered, “You little bitch!” He reared back to swing at Dawn, but I hooked my arm over his and jerked him backward, kicking the back of his leg as I did so. He screamed in pain and landed on the floor beside his buddy.

  The crowd suddenly pushed back and created a circle, watching with anticipation to see what would happen next. It was obvious this kind of thing happened often at the establishment, because the crowd moved like they were trained.

  Before my guy could push himself up, I jerked his arms behind his back and cuffed him. Dawn cuffed her guy and was about to straighten when Timber Wolf rushed up and threw open his coat, reaching for a pistol that was tucked in a shoulder rig.

  My gun was out before his and I leveled it at his face. “Sheriff’s office! Take your hand away from that pistol!”

  The man hesitated, but relaxed when Dawn stood beside me and produced her badge.

  “Why in the hell are you busting up my place?” he asked. “These are good paying customers. You’ve got no reason to come in here and harass them.”

  “If this one would’ve kept his hand off of my ass,” Dawn said, “he’d still be having a good time. But since he can’t seem to control himself, his night of partying is over.”

  I held out my hand and made our introduction. The man scowled, but shook my hand. “I’m Shelton Thomas. We don’t see many cops in here. Is there a reason you stopped by?”

  “Yeah, but first”—I pointed toward the back door—“is there a private room where we can sit with these two fine gentlemen until an ambulance gets here to check on them?”

  Shelton licked his lips. “Why can’t we just wait out here?”

  “It’s noisy.” I glanced toward the room and then back at him. “Unless there’s something illegal going on back there that you don’t want us to see.”

  He was not amused. “You’re not playing with some greenhorn. I know my rights. If I don’t want you back there, you’re not going unless you have a warrant.” His eyes narrowed. “Do you have a warrant?”

  “Do I need one?” I met Shelton’s gaze and held it.

  He finally sighed. “No, you don’t need a warrant, because I’m not doing anything illegal back there. Follow me.”

  Dawn held onto her guy’s good arm and escorted him toward the back of the room, while I did the same with mine. We followed Shelton down a long corridor that was lined on each side by doors, and stopped when we reached the end of the hall. He opened a white door and stepped aside to let us enter. We found ourselves in a large office that looked more like a master suite.

  “This building was an old roadside hotel back in the day,” Shelton explained. “I converted the lobby into the bar and I use the guest rooms as storage space. This was the king’s suite, but it’s now my office.”

  I nodded, but suspected he was using the guest rooms for more than storage. After Dawn and I frisked our suspects, we had them sit on a nearby sofa and she called for an ambulance to tend to their injuries.

  “Are you taking us to jail?” Dawn’s suspect asked.

  “That depends on you,” Dawn explained. “Once an ambulance assesses your condition, I’ll either write you a misdemeanor summons to appear in court or I’ll take you to jail—it all depends on how you act from here on out.”

  “Look, I would not have grabbed your ass if I’d known you were a cop,” he said. “I hate women cops.”

  “You shouldn’t be grabbing any woman by the ass unless she invites you to do so,” Dawn said. “Thankfully, you grabbed the ass of a woman who won’t put up with your shit, and it might help to modify your future behavior toward women.”

  The man grunted, but said nothing more. He appeared to be in extreme pain and he was leaning away from the elbow that Dawn had snapped, trying not to put any weight on it.

  Dawn kept an eye on both of the men as I walked with Shelton to his desk. I sat where I was facing Shelton, but could also see Dawn and the suspects.

  CHAPTER 22

  “So,” Shelton said, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands behind his head. “What brings you here?”

  “I need to know if anyone was with Wilton Michot when he came in here Sunday evening.”

  Shelton grinned, and I couldn’t help but notice that it appeared someone had taken a knife to both corners of his mouth to widen his smile. “As you can see by the number of customers I have, it’s impossible to know everyone who comes and goes in here. Hell, I have a hard time keeping up with the names of my employees.”

  “As I hear it, Wilton was a regular.”

  Shelton pursed his lips and shook his head. “The name doesn’t ring a bell. Who told you he was a regular?”

  “His wife.”

  “Detective, lots of men tell their wives they’re coming here when they’re actually hiding out in a sleazy hotel room screwing the shit out of their mistresses.” He shook his head again. “I’ve had to break the news to many an unsuspecting wife…and it never gets any easier.”

  “At least you don’t lie for your customers,” I mumbled.

  “Oh, I do lie for them, but the men we’re talking about aren’t my customers. My customers know enough to tell me in advance what the lie will be so I can cover their asses. Those other guys are just fools.”

  I grunted and pulled out my cell phone. After scrolling to a photo I’d taken of Wilton for identification purposes, I turned it toward Shelton. “Does this picture ring any bells?”

  “I think I do recognize him,” Shelton said. “Yep, I think he was in here Sunday evening. He was alone, as I recall. I didn’t see him speak to anyone…other than ordering drinks with my bartenders, of course. He did have quite a few drinks that night.”

  “Is he a regular here?”

  Shelton lifted his hands and cocked his head slowly to the side. “I wouldn’t use that word to describe him, but he does come in here every now and then. My regulars are here every night and we all know them by name. This guy, he just comes in from time to time, has a few drinks, maybe flirts with some of the girls, and then he leaves. No one would miss him if he never came in here again.”

  “Well, he won’t.”

  Shelton’s right eyebrow rose. “Won’t what?”

  “Won’t be coming in here again,” I said flatly. “He’s dead.”

  “Dead? How?”

  “Someone murdered him.”

  Shelton’s eyes widened. “He was murdered?”

  “Now you understand why we’re here asking questions. We need to know everything you can tell us about him. Did he have any enemies? Friends? Lovers? Did he maybe flirt with the wrong woman and piss off the wrong man? Did he ever get in a fight or disagreement with another customer?” I paused and took a breath. “Anything at all that you can think of might help.”

  “I…wow, I can’t believe it. We hadn’t heard about a murder.”

  “We’re not exactly advertising it,” I said. “Now, can you think of anything that might point to who killed him?”

  “No. Like I said, I don’t know the guy. He just comes in and has a few drinks every now and again, but he never really talks to anyone.”

  “Do you mind if I speak to your bartenders?”

  “Sure, go right ahead.”

  “Can you have them come back here so I can speak to them in private?”

  Shelton didn’t budge. He simply leaned over and snatched up the telephone, told the person who answered to meet us in his office.

  About a minute later, a young girl who couldn’t have been more than nineteen entered the office. She was followed by two paramedics.

  “They said they got a call to come here for the fight,” she said in a nervous voice.

  “It’s alright, they’re back here.” Shelton waved the medics in and they went directly to the two suspects.

  We all stood around while the medics checked
Dawn’s suspect’s arm, moving it slowly and touching it while they gauged the man’s reaction. When they were done, they suggested taking him to the hospital for an X-ray.

  “I’m not going to no hospital.” The man looked toward Dawn. “Can I just get my summons and go home? I’ve got to be at work tomorrow morning.”

  “The trip to the hospital is on the parish at the moment,” Dawn said. “So you might want to get that arm checked out.”

  The man eyed her suspiciously. “What do you mean at the moment?”

  “Well, once you’re convicted of the simple battery charge, the judge will order you to reimburse the parish for the hospital bill, considering you brought about the difficulty that resulted in your injury.”

  “Then I’m definitely not going to no damn hospital. I’ll just take my court paper, if that’s okay with you, ma’am.”

  Dawn smiled. “See how easy it is to be polite?”

  The other man leaned back when the medics approached him. “My leg’s fine—I don’t need to be looked at. I’d just like my summons, too, if that’d be okay.”

  “As you wish.” The medics filled out their refusal forms and had the men sign them. When they were gone, Dawn issued both suspect’s misdemeanor summonses and escorted them out of the office.

  As she was attending to them, I questioned the bartenders one at a time, but none of them recalled anything noteworthy about Wilton Michot.

  “I know he’s a car salesman,” one of them said, “but that’s about it.”

  When Dawn returned and we had finished with the bartenders, I showed Shelton a digital picture of Cade Baryon. “Have you ever seen this man?”

  “Never. What’s his name?”

  “Cade Baryon.”

  He shook his head. “Never heard the name either.”

  When we were ready to leave, Shelton walked us out and held the door for us. “Next time, call before you drop by,” he suggested. “That way, we might be able to avoid what happened here tonight and she”—he shot his thumb toward Dawn—“won’t go all Jackie Chan on any more of my customers.”

  Dawn only grunted as we got into my truck and drove away. Similar to the drive to the saloon, she didn’t say much on the return trip. It was almost midnight when I pulled into the parking lot of the detective bureau and threw the gear shift in park.

  “I guess this is goodnight,” she said wistfully.

  “It doesn’t have to be.” I winced inwardly when the words flew from my unbridled mouth. I started to say something to take it back, but realized it would’ve been even more awkward, so I just clamped my mouth shut and went with it.

  “What did you have in mind?”

  “To be honest, I didn’t have anything in mind. I just responded to your comment.”

  Dawn was silent for a few moments. When she spoke, I could barely hear her. “I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

  I knew something was wrong, but I had no idea what it was and I wasn’t about to pry. “I can sleep on my couch.”

  She cocked her head sideways and stared at me. In the dim glow from the lights in the parking lot I could see her eyes mist over. “Would you really let me crash at your place?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “I’d really appreciate it.” She lowered her head. “I just found out my dad quit drinking. According to my mom, he’s a changed man and he doesn’t beat her anymore.”

  I was confused. “Isn’t that a good thing?”

  “He’s too late.” Dawn let out a heavy sigh. “My mom’s dying.”

  CHAPTER 23

  Wednesday, October 3

  I was awake by six, thanks to the sunlight pouring through the cracks in the curtains over my living room windows. I tossed the blankets off and sat up on the sofa, rubbed my eyes to see clearer. Dawn and I had talked late into the morning and she was emotionally wrecked, so I figured she’d sleep for a while longer. I’d set up my bed for her sometime around three and then crashed on the sofa. I couldn’t fall asleep right away because I felt horrible for her. I’d wanted to help ease her pain but I didn’t know what to do, so I only listened.

  Moving like a ninja through the house so I wouldn’t disturb Dawn, I turned the dryer back on to fluff out her clothes from yesterday. Instead of driving all the way to Seasville to get more clothes, she’d decided to wash what she had at my house and wear it again. “This isn’t high school anymore,” she’d said. “I don’t care if anyone realizes this is what I wore yesterday.”

  I’d shown her where I stash my clothes and let her rifle through the drawers until she found something suitable to wear. We weren’t exactly the same size and my shirts looked more like dresses—albeit short dresses—on her, but she didn’t seem to mind.

  After taking care of her clothes, I took a shower, dressed for work, and then began cooking breakfast. Bacon was frying in the pan when I heard the floorboards creak behind me. I turned to see Dawn standing there wearing one of my button-down shirts. She was casually rubbing her eyes and yawning.

  “I thought I smelled breakfast.”

  I smiled. “It’s not great, but it’ll keep you alive until lunch.”

  She strode to the table and dropped to one of the chairs, folding her tanned legs in front of her. I was very aware of her eyes following me around the kitchen as I scooped grits and scrambled eggs into two plates and then set them on the table. I put the tray of bacon between us and took a seat opposite her.

  “Wow, I didn’t know breakfast came with the room.” She took a bite of the eggs and allowed her eyelids to slide closed. When she finished swallowing, she looked at me and winked. “Best eggs I’ve had all day.”

  I stopped with my fork poised halfway to my mouth. “Is it that bad?”

  She laughed. “I’m messing with you. They’re really good.”

  “Well, it is kind of hard to screw up eggs.” I was happy to see her in better spirits. I devoured the food on my plate and served a second helping while she was still on her first serving. “Do you want any more?”

  She shook her head and stared down at her plate, seemingly lost in thought. When she looked up, her eyes were misty like they were last night in my truck. “I really appreciate you letting me cry on your shoulder.”

  Embarrassed, I waved her off. “It was nothing.”

  “No, it was something.” Dawn stared back down at her plate. “I’ve never cried like that in front of anyone before.”

  I didn’t know what to say, so I kept my mouth shut in case I’d say the wrong thing.

  After a long moment of silence, she ate the last of her food and stood to pick up her plate.

  “I’ll clean up while you get ready for work,” I said, hurrying to my feet to take the dishes from her. Without objection, she handed me the plate. I started to walk toward the sink when she grabbed my arm. I stopped in my tracks and looked down into her dark eyes. Without warning, she stood to her toes and kissed me softly on the side of the face. A chill ran down the right side of my body as her moist lips made contact with my flesh.

  When she pulled away, she said, “I mean it…I really appreciate you letting me cry on your shoulder. It helped a lot.”

  “You’re welcome, I guess, but I didn’t really do anything.”

  “You were there when I needed someone to listen to me, and that’s important.” She smiled and stared thoughtfully at me. “You know, I was right about you.”

  I returned the smile. “About what…that I’m an awesome cook?”

  “No…that you’re a perfect gentleman.”

  “So, the eggs did suck!”

  “The eggs were fine.” After she let go of my arm, she spun on her heels and her hair whipped around, offering a fleeting glimpse of her smooth neck. As she walked toward my room, she called over her shoulder, “It was the bacon that sucked. They were undercooked.”

  I laughed and watched her walk away. She paused for a second in the doorway to my room and looked back at me. Our eyes locked for what seemed like too long to be casual,
and then she quickly disappeared inside.

  As I was cleaning up the kitchen, I heard her bustling about my room and then I heard the shower faucet kick on. I checked the clock on the stove when I finished the dishes…nearly eight o’clock. I didn’t want to be late for work, so I texted her while she was still in the shower to let her know I was heading into the office. I told her where I hid the spare key and asked her to lock up on her way out. I then walked into the cool morning air.

  It was bright outside, but I felt down. On any given day I would’ve been riding high, considering Dawn had spent the night at my house, but my mood was sour because of what she was going through. I knew too well what it felt like to lose a parent and I didn’t want her to experience that pain.

  When I arrived at the detective bureau there was a sticky note on my desk asking me to call the warden of the detention center, Captain Carl Boutin.

  I cursed silently when the automated answering machine picked up. Is it so damn hard to get a live person to answer the phone anymore?

  Like a good little soldier, I followed the instructions on the recording and punched in the first three letters of Captain Boutin’s last name, waited for him to pick up. When he finally did, I told him it was me and asked what he needed.

  “London, you need to get down here as soon as you can. Your prisoner is begging to talk to you.”

  “About what?”

  “Look, he’s feining bad and wants out of here, so he’ll probably say anything to get your attention.” Captain Boutin paused and took a breath. “Normally, we wouldn’t put much stock in anything an inmate in his condition would say, but his crazy talk is starting to sound real and I’m thinking you might want to hear him out.”

  “Talking crazy? What’s he saying?”

  “He’s going on and on about some missing person case. He says he’s got information about this person who went missing and he’ll only talk to you, but you’ll have to guarantee his release from jail before he spills the beans.”

  “Well, that won’t happen,” I said. “I’ll come down there and talk to him, but he’s not going anywhere. For all I know, he could’ve been the one who killed Wilton Michot.” I paused, then asked, “Did he give the name of the missing person?”