But Not Forsaken: A Clint Wolf Novel (Clint Wolf Mystery Series Book 3)

by BJ Bourg

  I asked what she meant.

  “What if she simply left the area?”

  “For what reason?”

  “What if she needed a change of scenery? Or just made a run for it? Some girls get spooked when relationships get too serious.”

  “Our relationship wasn’t too serious.”

  “Right, because moving in isn’t a major commitment.”

  “It’s not like we were talking marriage or anything.”

  Susan grunted and didn’t say another word for a while, but her suggestion continued burning in my brain long after she’d spoken it. I found myself hoping she was right, but suspecting she wasn’t. Stepping out on me was one thing—scaring her parents was something different.

  Susan and I stood there silently looking out over the water. She stabbed the light at every little ripple of water, the faintest snap of a twig, or slightest rustle of grass, but there was no sign of the brothers. What if they’d escaped before we could get to the edge of the deck? I’d had survival training and time was of the essence if one wanted to escape a vehicle alive. If they’d had similar training, they would’ve been out of that truck in an instant and could’ve been heading downstream before we made it to the top of the bridge and out of the unit. I posed the question to Susan.

  She mulled on it for a while and then said, “Anything’s possible, Clint. Anything.”

  I started to walk west along the bank in case they had made it out and were headed in that direction, but I stopped when I heard sirens in the distance to the north. Melvin must’ve gotten word to the sheriff’s office that we needed help.

  The large pillars that held up the bridge began to vibrate slightly, followed shortly afterward by squealing pulleys and rattling chain. I looked up to see the lift span slowly coming down. The earth shook when it finally settled into place.

  “Melvin’s getting good at driving bridges,” Susan said, but neither of us laughed.

  CHAPTER 28

  8:30 a.m., Friday, October 30

  Mechant Loup Bridge

  Sheriff Turner stood beside me under the Mechant Loup Bridge on the southern bank of Bayou Tail and we watched as his divers prepared to launch themselves off of Melvin’s boat. They were closer to the northern bank and we used binoculars to watch their movements.

  Although I tried not to show it, I was tired. My officers and I had spent a restless night along Bayou Tail Lane watching for any signs of the Parkers. Amy and Melvin had taken first watch while Susan and I returned to the scene of the shooting and helped Sheriff Turner’s detectives sift through the rubble at the police department. At my request, the sheriff had agreed to have his detectives take lead on the investigation into the gun battle at my office.

  Within minutes of speaking with Detectives Doug Cagle and Mallory Tuttle, it became painfully obvious that we didn’t have a case against the Parker brothers, because not one of us could identify the men who attacked us. I had immediately named them as the shooters when first speaking with them, but when Mallory asked which Parker brother was at which firing position, I had to acknowledge I hadn’t seen any of them. I didn’t like it one bit, but that was the way it went.

  After the fire department had put out the fire, Mallory and Doug had asked me to pinpoint the locations of each body to help with the identification process. Once we were done at the fire scene, Susan and I had returned to the crash site and watched the bayou for signs of life while Amy and Melvin napped in the back of his truck. We had switched places two hours later, and each pulled two shifts before Sheriff Turner’s dive team had arrived at daybreak.

  I was having a hard time keeping my eyes open, so the first thing I did was walk to Cig’s for a cup of coffee. I hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep, because each time I dozed off I kept seeing Abigail’s face. Once, when I’d jerked awake, it caused Susan—who was snoozing at the far end of the truck bed—to stir from her sleep, and she’d asked if everything was okay. Not wanting to interrupt her any more, I focused on remaining awake.

  Standing there with the sheriff, I’d just taken my last sip of coffee and wanted another one. There had been no signs of life on the water or either bank during the night, so we all knew it was a recovery mission. Whoever was down there was already dead and there was nothing anyone could do for them. I, on the other hand, was alive and in dire need of coffee, so I was going get another—

  “Do you think those bastards are still down there?” Sheriff Turner’s voice startled me.

  “I…I don’t know, Sheriff. I really don’t know.”

  “Mallory tells me you think they’re the same pieces of shit who murdered your family.”

  I wanted to say I did, but ever since Mallory pressed me on what I’d seen, I’d begun to question my theory. After all, the district attorney’s office in the city had dropped the charges against them due to lack of evidence, and who was I to argue with them? I had to admit to myself it was possible someone else was responsible for the attack on our office, and the murder of the bar tender, and Chloe’s disappearance.

  “Damn it!” I shook my head to clear it. This all had to be the work of the Parker brothers. I couldn’t think of anyone else who had the motive or the stones to take on an entire police department. “It has to be them, Sheriff.”

  I found myself starting to hope their bodies were down there. It would be all the proof we needed that they attacked us, and it would bring closure to the investigation. If they weren’t down there, they might just get away with murder again—and I couldn’t let that happen.

  Either way, I still didn’t know what had happened to Chloe, and it made me sick to my stomach. Here’s hoping Susan was right, I thought, and Chloe had made a run for it.

  Within minutes, one of the divers dropped into the bayou and floated beside the boat, waiting for his partner to join him. When they were both in the water, they gave a nod and slowly disappeared into the blackness below. Melvin and a water patrol deputy named Sean manned the ropes attached to each of the divers and stood hunched over, feeding just enough slack for their descent.

  Melvin’s face was taut and his eyes narrow. I’d never seen him so serious. I wondered if he was thinking of his wife and toddler back home. After living through a night like last night, it could cause any officer to reevaluate his priorities and to question his reason for doing this job.

  Things were a bit too quiet, so I thanked Sheriff Turner again for his assistance and apologized for the loss of his deputies. “They risked their lives to save ours,” I said. “They fought to the very end. I’m proud to say I knew them.”

  “Seth was one of my best deputies.” Turner’s tone was somber. “Nate was new, but he had a ton of potential. Making the notification to their families was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.” He removed his cowboy hat and rubbed beads of sweat from his forehead. “They sure don’t warn you about that kind of thing in sheriff school.”

  I nodded my agreement. It was one of the worst parts of the job and something I’d never grow accustomed to.

  “I have to get back to the office,” Turner said after a few minutes. “If you don’t mind, I’ll take Seth’s personal belongings from his truck and then leave it with you. You can use it as long as you want. Let me know if there’s anything else my department can do for you …anything at all.”

  I thanked him and turned as Susan walked over from where she’d been talking on her cell phone. Phone crews had worked late into the morning repairing the cell tower north of town and they’d gotten things running in quick order—much quicker than after a hurricane, where they’d have to contend with high winds and widespread damage.

  “Lindsey’s fine,” she said. “They patched her up and sent her home.”

  “Think she’ll ever come back to work?” I asked. “She seemed pretty freaked out in there.”

  Susan frowned. “Is there anything to come back to? Our office is completely destroyed.”

  I just shrugged. She had been there when I’d run into one of Mechant Lou
p’s councilmen at the fire scene earlier in the morning. When I’d asked about using some offices in the new town hall building, he said he would have to run it by the other members. He was concerned that our presence there would put the entire council and their employees in danger. “If you find the Parker clan at the bottom of Bayou Tail, we’ll move y’all in today,” he had said. “If not…I just don’t know.”

  I couldn’t say I blamed him. It seemed everyone who stood next to me was in danger. I didn’t like being the cause of so much pain and misery. First, it was my family. Now, it was everyone else in my life. Why couldn’t the Parker brothers have kept things between them and me? By going after Amy, Chloe, Dexter, and everyone else, they’d done nothing more than reinforce my desire to see them dead. They’d started a war…a war I planned on winning.

  “Let’s have a seat over here,” Susan said, nudging my arm and waving me toward a shady spot under the bridge where large rocks cropped up out of the bank. I sat next to her and watched as she took stock of her ammunition. Soot was smudged on her forehead, and her uniform shirt was ripped in a couple of places. There was blood on the outside of her left hand and I wasn’t sure if it had spilled from her own body or someone else’s. After she’d finished counting rounds, she leaned the AR against one of the nearby rocks and folded her arms across her chest. “You think they’ll find anything?”

  I followed her gaze. Melvin was still watching the water intently. A large wrecker had arrived and parked on the opposite side of the bayou.

  “At this point, I sure hope they do. I’m ready for this to be over. Enough people have died over those assholes.” My thoughts returned to Chloe and I asked Susan if I could borrow her phone. I hadn’t seen mine since we’d crashed my Tahoe in the sally port. She handed it to me and I found myself just staring at it.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t even know my own girlfriend’s phone number.” Although I’d recently been given her dad’s number, I couldn’t remember his either, so I handed the phone back to Susan.

  It was cool under the bridge and would’ve been pleasant under different circumstances. The gentle breeze caressed my face. I wanted to lie down on the ground and fall asleep, but I knew I couldn’t. I was about to get up and walk to Cig’s for more coffee when Susan spoke.

  “So, I’ve been thinking,” she began slowly, and then stopped.

  When she didn’t continue, I asked, “About?”

  “I know I told you I didn’t want to know if my dad had done something terrible. I wanted to remember him like I knew him.”

  I nodded.

  “Well, I believe I want to know what you found out. I don’t think I can live in peace knowing Bill Hedd knows something about my dad that I don’t know.”

  “It’s your choice, Sue. I’ll do whatever you want me to do…whatever makes you comfortable.”

  She took a deep breath and blew it out forcefully. “Okay, tell me—and tell me fast, like ripping off a bandage.”

  I didn’t hesitate. I told her everything Conner had told me and explained what happened with Bill and her attorney. “He didn’t want the world knowing his wife was a liar and a cheat, so he decided to drop the false charges against you.”

  Before she had time to process what I’d told her, Melvin hollered from the boat. “We’ve got movement! They’re coming up!”

  CHAPTER 29

  Susan and I jumped to our feet and moved to the water’s edge, watching through binoculars with bated breath. White bubbles rose slowly to the surface and increased in volume and intensity. Before long, the divers broke the surface of the water. Melvin and Sean helped them onto the deck of the boat, where they removed their breathing apparatuses. One of the divers shook his head and said something to Melvin, who immediately pulled out the radio loaner from the sheriff. The radio on my belt scratched to life.

  “The truck’s down there, but they think it’s empty,” Melvin reported.

  My heart sank. “Do they think the Parkers got away?”

  “They’re not sure at the moment,” he called back. “They’re going back down to attach a cable to the truck. As soon as the wrecker pulls the truck from the water, they’ll go back down and search the bottom for bodies.”

  Susan and I exchanged looks and I asked her what she thought.

  “Let’s wait and see what they find on the bottom. I’m hoping the truck landed on top of them.”

  While the divers went back under to attach a cable to the truck, Susan and I decided to walk to Cig’s for more coffee.

  We were about fifty yards from the store when I smelled food cooking. I shielded my eyes from the sun and saw a large tent in the parking lot. A dozen people were bustling about under the tent and several others were bent over massive metal pots that sat on top of large burners. When we got closer, I saw shrimp jambalaya in one pot and chicken and sausage gumbo in another. My stomach growled.

  “What’s all this about?” Susan asked.

  I didn’t know, so I nodded to a man wearing a dirty apron and asked what was going on.

  “We heard what happened, so we figured y’all could use some food—and some backup.” He shot a thumb over his shoulder and I looked where he pointed. There were at least ten men huddled near a van and they all carried long guns and had pistols strapped to their belts. By their clothes and choice of weapons—long-barrel shotguns and hunting rifles—I’d guess they were trappers or alligator hunters, and they looked ready for battle.

  Susan and I sauntered over to where they stood and I introduced us. After shaking hands all around, one of the men spoke up. “I’m Brennan Boudreaux—Dexter’s brother,” he said. “And these are my friends. We figured you could use more fire power, considering what all happened yesterday. And if you’re hunting the men that killed Dexter, I want to be a part of that posse.”

  I immediately saw the resemblance. Although a bit younger, the man could’ve passed for Dexter’s twin.

  One of Brennan’s friends spat a stream of tobacco juice to the pavement. “I only wish we’d been around when the shit went down.” His eyes turned to slits. “Things would’ve turned out different, that’s for sure.”

  I wasn’t ashamed to say I would’ve welcomed their help, and I did exactly that. “We could’ve used y’all.”

  There was a round of somber nods that was interrupted when an elderly woman walked up carrying two plastic bowls of jambalaya. She handed one to Susan and one to me. “Y’all must be starving.”

  We thanked her and I asked if there was more for Melvin and the divers. The woman laughed. “When we cook around here, there’s enough to feed everyone…everywhere in the world.”

  Brennan and two of the other men offered to help us carry the food, and we waited while the woman made extra bowls. With drinks and food in hand, we made our way back to Seth’s truck and drove across the bridge to the northern bank with the food. A couple of news vans were parked on the shoulder of the highway and crews were unloading their equipment. I frowned as I thought of Chloe. I fought the urge to panic. Where the hell are you?

  The wrecker was just pulling the old red pickup from the depths of Bayou Tail when we drove down the embankment and parked. Mud and water gushed off the metal as the winch lifted it onto the shore and dragged it toward the wrecker. The operator stopped the truck near the wrecker and made preparations to drag it onto the flatbed. I stepped forward and looked through the open driver’s door, hoping to see a body smashed up under the dash. It was empty. I scanned the back seat, but it was also empty. Even the weapons were gone—and that wasn’t a good sign.

  After the truck was secured on the flatbed and the divers had stripped out of their gear, Susan and I disseminated the food and we all huddled under the bridge—out of sight of the reporters—to eat.

  As he munched on a bite of jambalaya, one of the divers mentioned finding the driver’s door open when he approached the truck underwater. “I went to pull on the handle, but it was already open. Not by much, mind you, but
it was open. I think they made it out the truck.” He paused to take another bite of his food. “And if they did, they could’ve survived.”

  “We never took our eyes off the water,” I said. “Wouldn’t we have seen them come up?”

  The diver shrugged. “Not always. We had a suspect crash his car in the bayou about a year ago in broad daylight. Patrol was right behind him and saw his car hit the water. He never surfaced, so they called me to recover his body, but I couldn’t find him. He showed up at his grandma’s house later that night.”

  “So,” I said slowly, “are you saying we could’ve missed them?”

  “It’s quite possible.”

  Putting my empty bowl aside, I stood to my feet and looked toward the west, where Bayou Tail eventually spilled into Lake Berg. Could they have made it that far? I then scanned the southern bank of the bayou. We had been there all night and would’ve heard something if they had crawled their way out of the bayou. I turned my attention to the northern bank, looking first to my left and then to my right. The underbrush was thicker on this side of the bayou. What if they were hiding out in the bushes at that very moment, just waiting to attack us?

  “They could be long gone,” Melvin said. “Or they could be watching us right now.”

  I saw Susan’s hand inch toward the AR-15. “I think we need to get a helicopter and a K-9 officer out here to start working the banks—just in case we missed something.”

  “That’s not a bad idea.” I turned to Melvin. “I’m open to suggestions.”

  He frowned and lowered his head. He was thoughtful for a while. Finally, he looked up. “Gretchen Verdin was Seth’s sergeant and she’s part Chitimacha Indian. She can track a roach across the surface of the water without her dog. Together, they’re dangerous.”

  “Can you get her here?”

  Sean stood and started toward his patrol car that was parked nearby. “I’ll get her on the radio. I think she’s working days, so she should be out and about by now.”