But Not Forbidden: A Clint Wolf Novel (Clint Wolf Mystery Series Book 6)

by BJ Bourg

“What’s his name?”

  “Um, well, we’ve never really met him. He’s from out of town and he works a lot, so I understand why she hasn’t brought him around. Based on what she’s said, it’s nothing serious anyway.”

  “Do you know his name?”

  “You know, I don’t remember if she said his name or not. She must have, but I don’t remember right off. Excuse me for a minute…” Terry disappeared inside and I could hear him talking to his wife. When he returned, he snapped his fingers. “I remember now…it’s Chet.”

  “And you say he’s from out of town?”

  Terry nodded.

  “Do you know where?”

  “Nah, she never said where he was from. What’s going on?”

  “Do you know how old this guy is?”

  “I mean, she’s twenty-three, so I’d expect him to be around the same age. Maybe twenty-four or twenty-five?”

  “When’s the last time you saw Shelly?”

  “She came by last week.”

  “And when’s the last time she asked to borrow your truck?”

  Terry eyed me suspiciously. “It’s been a while, maybe a month, or so. Why? Please tell me you don’t think she stole my truck? She would never do that.”

  “Does she own a twenty-two rifle?”

  “I doubt it. If she needs a gun, she usually asks for one of mine.”

  I glanced down at the doorknob. Pointed to it. “Does she have a key to your house?”

  “Sure, both my kids have a key to the house. Why?”

  I thanked him and hurried off his front porch.

  “What’s going on, detective? Why are you asking about Shelly?”

  I waved him off. “It’s just routine police follow-up. Nothing major.”

  I called Susan as soon as I got in my Tahoe. She picked up on the first ring.

  “Well?” she asked. “Is she related to Terry?”

  “She’s his daughter, and get this…she has a fiancé named Chet.”

  “Chet…isn’t that a nickname for Chester?”

  “It sure is. I’m heading to the office to sign Terry’s rifle out of evidence and then I’m bringing it to the crime lab. If it matches the casings, Shelly Smith’s got some explaining to do.”

  “No!” Susan said it so forcefully that it surprised me. “You need to go find this Shelly person. I’ll bring the rifle to the lab.”

  I was about to argue when she cut me off.

  “You’ve got five days to solve this case. Otherwise, we’re not getting married or having sex.” She took a breath. “I don’t need you wasting your time driving back and forth to La Mort. I can do that while you’re searching for the killer.”

  I knew she was right, so I thanked her and slid my thumb across the screen. I whipped my Tahoe around and headed for Lacy Court. Within a few minutes, I was pulling up to the second house on the right. It was a barn-style building with two windows on the top floor and a large door on the bottom floor. The top half of the building was brown and weathered, while the bottom half was painted light gray. It looked as though whoever painted it didn’t have a ladder, so they just reached as high as they could and then quit.

  I stepped out of my Tahoe, but froze when I detected movement from the shadows of the trees to my right. What the hell are you doing here?

  CHAPTER 30

  An hour later…

  Susan carefully removed the evidence box containing Terry Smith’s rifle from the back of her marked Tahoe and cradled it under her arm. The parking lot at the crime lab was full, so she was forced to park across the street. After waiting for the traffic to clear, she hurried across the busy street and slowed to a normal pace when she reached the sidewalk. She huffed when she saw a few crime scene units back out of parking spots and race out of the lot with their sirens blaring and lights flashing.

  “Just a few more minutes and I could’ve had a sweet spot.” She shook her head and pushed through the entrance. A female detective wearing a La Mort detective shield was sitting in the waiting room and Susan glanced at her to see if she was in line. The detective smiled and waved Susan toward the intake officer. “I’m waiting for DNA.”

  The intake officer was a large man who had a paper plate filled with donuts. Susan started to make a wise crack about cops and donuts, but the man didn’t look like he could take a joke.

  “Hi, I’m Chief Susan Wilson from Mechant Loup.” She placed the rifle box on the counter. “I was hoping to meet with Tracy Dinger again. She’s been helping us with a murder—”

  “Sorry, but Mrs. Dinger is on an emergency call at the moment. You’ll have to leave the evidence with me. I’m sure she’ll get to it as soon as she can.”

  Susan hesitated. She needed the rifle worked up as soon as possible. “Is there anyone else who can work it up? I just need it test fired and compared to some casings we brought in earlier.”

  “Sorry, but they’re all heading to a gang-related shooting.” The man slid a clipboard containing evidence submittal forms in Susan’s direction. “Multiple shooters and multiple victims, so it’s all hands on deck.”

  Susan thought about taking it to the state police crime lab, but figured Tracy could probably get to it sooner. Snatching an ink pen from her shirt pocket, she filled out the forms and turned over the rifle box. After thanking the intake officer, she turned and walked outside. She noticed the detective had stood to her feet and was following her.

  Once she was outside, Susan glanced over her shoulder. The detective smiled again and held out her hand. “I’m Jennifer…Jennifer Duval.”

  Susan tried not to look surprised. She simply smiled and introduced herself. She’d heard of Jennifer from Clint. Apparently, Jennifer and Clint had had a fling a bunch of years ago—back before he had married Michele—and he thought she still had feelings for him. Susan wasn’t surprised and she sure didn’t blame her.

  “I heard you say you’re from Mechant Loup.” Jennifer shifted her feet and hooked her thumbs in the front pockets of her dress slacks, stood a little taller. “My ex-boyfriend used to be the chief of police there. Do you know him?”

  Susan was smart enough to know Jennifer knew exactly who she was, and she knew what Jennifer was trying to do. Instead of playing the game, she smiled again. “I do know him.”

  “Yeah, it’s a shame he left the big city.” Jennifer stared down at her boots. “He was the best homicide detective we had. He had a nose for it, you know what I mean?”

  Susan nodded.

  “I just don’t know what he sees in that small town. He had so much going for him out here in the city, and to just give it all up for some dead-end hellhole…” Jennifer allowed her voice to trail off as she shook her head. “I hope he comes to his senses one day and gets back to doing what he loves—”

  Susan held out her hand. “It was very nice meeting you, but I’ve got to get back to work.” She turned and walked toward her vehicle, leaving Jennifer standing there in mid-sentence.

  Once Susan had driven out of the parking lot, she headed for the interstate. Her mind was whirling, not about Jennifer, but about the upcoming wedding. She felt there was something she had to do, and this might be her last chance to do it before Sunday.

  When she had barely left the city, she turned down the old road that led to a place she had visited nearly two years ago. Although ice-cold air was blowing from the vents in her car, her hands were sweaty on the steering wheel. The tires scrunched loudly against the shells that covered the parking lot. She glanced to the far end of the lot, where she’d seen Clint’s Tahoe that morning so long ago. The fear, the uncertainty, the desperation…all of the raw emotions she experienced that day came flooding back.

  After taking a deep breath, she stepped out of her vehicle and walked across the parking lot. She pushed through a rusted metal gate and strode down a long row of tombstones. She stopped when she reached the large oak tree with the heart-shaped scar cut into it. Her hands were trembling. Maybe I should go back?

  She hesita
ted and looked over her shoulder. Her Tahoe seemed small where it stood all alone in the cemetery parking lot. She started to go back, but then took a breath and exhaled forcefully. “Come on, Susan, you’ve got this.”

  She continued onward and then turned right, where she walked about another hundred yards along a grassy lane. The lane came to an end at two headstones. One displayed the name of Michele Wolf and the other displayed the name of Abigail Wolf. The date of their death was inscribed beneath their names.

  Susan stared at her boots as she stood there, not sure what to say. She glanced around to make sure no one was watching her. When she was sure she was alone, she cleared her throat. “Hey, Michele, I’m Susan. I…um, I figured it might be a good idea for me to come over and say hello…introduce myself.” She licked her dry lips. “I just want you to know that I love Clint and I’ll treat him right. I know if you’d still be alive he’d be with you and I’d never stand a chance. I guess it’s not fair that you’re not here to—”

  Susan scowled when she saw something flapping in the wind on the edge of Michele’s tombstone. She drew closer and leaned forward, curious. Attached to the headstone was what appeared to be a photograph. It was so faded that Susan couldn’t be sure until she tugged it away and held it to the sunlight.

  “Oh my God!” Her mouth fell open when she realized what it was. On many occasions over the years, she’d seen Clint pull a picture of Michele and Abigail from a small pocket in his wallet. He would stare at the picture for long periods of time, and once or twice she thought she heard him crying softly as he spoke to the picture. This was the same picture, but only half of it. It had been ripped down the middle. The half with Michele on it had been stuck to the headstone with a piece of gum. She held the piece of gum to the light.

  “This is the kind of gum Clint chews.” The implications of what she had found sent a wave of emotions flooding over her that brought tears to her eyes. The picture was still in good shape, so it had been recently placed there, and she knew the only opportunity Clint would’ve had to do it was when he’d gone to the crime lab.

  Susan dropped to her knees and wept at the thought of Clint shutting that chapter of his life for her. She felt a tinge of guilt because Michele hadn’t gotten a vote in what had happened to her, but she was also deeply moved by the gesture.

  After what seemed like too long, Susan dried her eyes and carefully returned the photograph to the exact spot she’d found it. Through blurry eyes, she made her way out of the cemetery and through the parking lot to her Tahoe. Once inside her vehicle, she took a moment to compose herself. She then drove away.

  CHAPTER 31

  The shadows under the trees were thick, but there was no mistaking Patricia’s figure tucked up near the trunk of a large pine in the yard adjacent to Shelly’s property. “What are you doing here?”

  She scowled when she saw me. I caught movement behind her and Junior appeared from out of the shadows. His expression was equally sour. I didn’t know exactly what they were doing there, but I wasn’t afraid to put my money on a reason…and that reason had to do with Shelly Smith.

  “You keep turning up everywhere my investigation leads me,” I said, approaching Patricia. “I don’t think it’s a coincidence.”

  Patricia wore a pair of faded cut-off jean shorts and a white tank-top. While she seemed to blend better with the people in town, there was a hint of wildness in her eyes that reminded me she was not a domesticated cat. Junior wore coveralls with no shirt, and he was barefooted. Patricia wore brown sandals.

  “We just want to have a word with my father’s fiancée,” Patricia said. “Someone from town killed him and she’s from town, so I thought she might have some ideas.”

  So, she is Chester’s fiancée. Now I knew why Shelly never told her dad about Chester. He was old enough to be her dad—probably older—

  and that wouldn’t set well with Terry.

  I noticed Junior was eye-balling me and I nodded in his direction. “What’s going on with you?”

  He folded his arms across his chest and I noticed there was a silver revolver strapped to his belt. “Patricia told me you let the guy who killed Pops get away scot-free. I don’t think you care much about what happened to Pops. What if it would be your family? Would you let the killer leave like that?”

  “Turns out, he wasn’t our guy.” Junior appeared angry with me, so I kept my hand near my pistol. “Look, I want you to understand that I’m your detective. I work for you. You and I, we’re on the same team and we both want the same thing—to catch the person who killed your dad.”

  “I don’t want to catch the person who killed Pops,” Junior said. “I want to kill him.”

  Patricia nodded. “We both do—and so does Dickie.”

  Dickie…I’d forgotten about him. I surveyed the area behind Patricia and Junior, but didn’t see him anywhere. Could he be behind me?

  “So, where is Dickie? Did he come to town with y’all?” I resisted the urge to look behind me, although it was a strong urge.

  Patricia shook her head. “He stayed back at the camp, just in case…”

  “Just in case what?” I asked when she didn’t complete the sentence.

  She shifted her feet, but didn’t answer. “We’d just like to have a word with Shelly and then we’ll be on our way.”

  “Can I have her first? I’d like to talk to her about a few things. It might help clear up some issues with the case.”

  “We got here first, copper,” Junior said. “She belongs to us.”

  “It might be true that you got here first, but you’ve got no authority to be here. She could tell you to get lost and there’s nothing you could do about it. In fact, if she called me and wanted to press charges on y’all for trespassing, I’d have to honor her wishes—and I know how y’all feel about trespassers.”

  Patricia shot a glance at Junior and nodded. “We’ll return later.”

  They turned to walk off, but I stopped them.

  “How’d y’all get here?”

  “We walked,” Patricia said simply.

  “From the camp?”

  “No, silly, from the boat launch.”

  “Where are y’all heading now? In case I need to find y’all.”

  “We’ll be at the launch with our boat.”

  “Why don’t I have the daytime officer come by and give y’all a ride to the station? That way I can talk to y’all when I’m done with Shelly.”

  “We’re not going anywhere with any officer.” Patricia waved for Junior to follow her. “We’ll be in touch.”

  I watched them walk down the street and I didn’t turn toward Shelly’s house until they had disappeared around the next block. What if they doubled back and tried to take out Shelly? The last thing I needed right now was for them to go all vigilante in town right before the wedding. For a split second, I thought about putting a tail on them, but figured that might piss them off. If Shelly was the killer and they found out about it, I’d definitely have to place her in protective custody.

  Before I could knock on the door, it opened just a little and a young woman stuck her head through the crack. She was very thin-framed and her black hair was accentuated by her pale complexion. “Are they gone?”

  “You mean Patricia and Junior?”

  She nodded, her dark eyes wide.

  “Are you afraid of them?”

  “Well, they’re not happy right now, that’s for sure, so...yeah, I’m a bit afraid of them at the moment.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Not out here.” She pushed the door wider and grabbed my arm to usher me inside. Once the door was closed, she threw the bolt and shuddered. “I went to the coroner’s office this morning to make arrangements for Chester’s funeral, but they told me they weren’t ready to release his body yet. They demanded to know my relationship to him and when I told them I was his fiancée, they told me I couldn’t make any decisions because I wasn’t family.” She stuck her chin out. “Can you believe th
at? I’m his fiancée but that doesn’t count for anything!”

  “Well, they have rules, you know?”

  “Whatever.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Anyway, when I stepped outside at the coroner’s office, I saw an old gray car drive up and Patricia got out of the passenger’s seat. She didn’t look happy to see me and she asked what I was doing there. I told her I was claiming my fiancé’s body, but that they wouldn’t release it yet. She told me I had no right to be there and she accused me of killing him.” She sighed. “That was when I learned he’d been murdered. I had spoken with someone from the fair and they told me he’d died and the coroner had his body. I just thought he had a heart attack or something, you know? He never did go to the doctor and he was always smoking pot, so I figured it was some medical condition that hadn’t been diagnosed.”

  “So, what happened with Patricia?”

  “Oh, she accused me of having something to do with his murder. At first, I was shocked, but I didn’t want her to think she knew more than I did, so I pretended to already know he’d been murdered. I went on to tell her that I had no reason to kill him, because he had already left everything to me in his will.” She snorted. “Well, let’s just say I didn’t like the look in her eyes when I mentioned the will.”

  That got my attention. “What will?”

  “The will Chester signed two weeks ago. He left everything to me—the camp, his boats, and all of his property.”

  “What about Patricia and all? Did he leave them anything?”

  “Well, I promised I’d let them live there as long as they wanted to.” She ran her hands across the front of her summer dress, as though she thought there were wrinkles that needed straightening. “I had visions for the place and Chester liked my ideas. The kids didn’t like me and they thought I was just using him for his land, but they were wrong.”

  I’d seen Chester, and now that I’d seen this young and attractive girl, I could easily see how an older man like him could be smitten by a younger woman like her. I didn’t mean to be cynical, but I actually agreed with Patricia and her brothers.