by BJ Bourg
“I’m here,” she said in a weak voice. “I’m ready.”
She had changed into jeans and a yellow blouse, but her hair was fixed the same as it had been earlier and her eyes were swollen and red. I also noticed she wasn’t wearing her dancing shoes.
“Hey, are you okay?” I sat across from her and watched as she straightened in her chair, pulling at the front of her shirt and smoothing out the legs of her pants.
“I’ll be fine.” She forced a smile and nodded. “I’m ready if you are.”
I hesitated, knowing something was wrong, but respecting the fact that she didn’t want to discuss it. “I can go alone if you like. I’ll just gather the information and bring it back to you in the morning.”
“No, I’d actually rather be working at the moment.”
“Well, let’s do it then.” I led the way to my truck and we headed north along Highway Three for about ten minutes until we reached the point where it intersected with Route Twenty-Three. I turned east toward Jasper, which was located at the very edge of our jurisdiction to the east, and set my cruise control to fifty-five. I was in no hurry and neither was Dawn, who had rested her head against the passenger’s side window and was staring out into the darkness.
Since Jasper was such a quiet community and was located so far from the rest of the parish, it was often overlooked by our patrol deputies. Thanks to the lack of law enforcement presence, some of the community members felt like the laws of the state and Magnolia Parish didn’t apply to them. I could remember times when the rest of the parish was under curfew because of hurricanes, but the town of Jasper was in full swing. We’d had to shut down grocery stores and barrooms more than once on such occasions.
Route Twenty-Three was a sixty-four mile, four-lane highway that ran east to west. It cut through the center of Magnolia Parish and was lined on either side by marshland and dense forests, except for the four-mile strip that served as Main Street for the quaint town of Jasper.
I tapped the brakes to turn off the cruise control when we approached the Jasper welcome sign, which was brand new and shiny, thanks to a movie production company that had decided to feature the town in a low-budget film. The lettering on the old sign had been weathered beyond the point of recognition and unacceptable for the movie’s producer.
Dawn hadn’t said a word on the twenty-minute drive, but she lifted her head as I drove past the only remaining gas station in Louisiana—and possibly the world—that only accepted cash.
“They still don’t have a card machine on their pumps?”
“No,” I said. “I don’t know how they can afford to stay open.”
“It’s past time that Jasper moves into the new millennium.” Dawn rubbed her eyes and yawned. “I don’t know anyone who carries cash anymore. Hell, I don’t even know what the stuff looks like. Is it still green?”
I laughed. “As far as I know.”
Once we’d driven by the tattoo parlor and Chinese restaurant along Main Street, I coasted onto the shoulder of the road and eased into the oyster shell parking lot of Twisted Long Neck. A bright red Camaro occupied the parking spot in front of the door and a sign that read, The Boss, stood in front of it.
There were a lot of cars for a Tuesday night, and I said as much to Dawn as I shut off the engine.
“Yeah, it must be ladies night.”
I shoved my Beretta nine millimeter pistol in my waistband and covered it with my shirt before stepping out of my truck, and Dawn did the same with her Glock. She met me at the front of my truck and I nodded to let her know I was ready. She put a hand on my arm before I could turn away.
“I want to thank you,” she said softly.
I scrunched my eyebrows. “For what…driving you to this fancy establishment?”
She smiled. “No, for leaving me alone with my thoughts. You knew something was wrong but you didn’t pester me to find out what it was. That’s a rare quality.”
I shrugged. “I figured it wasn’t my business.”
“That’s one of the things I like about you, London Carter.” She turned and led the way toward the door. “Now, let’s see if we can find out if anyone knows who in the hell killed Wilton Michot.”
CHAPTER 21
The interior of the saloon was smaller than it looked on the outside. The wrap-around bar was to our right as we walked inside. The base of the bar was constructed of brick, while the top was made of smooth mahogany. There were at least a dozen stools around the bar and several tables littered the space between the bar and the dance floor. Every seat in the place was taken. Several couples were dancing to the cheap music of a live band and other patrons milled around, chattering loudly and nursing various types of drinks.
“What do you think happens back there?” Dawn asked, pointing to a large wooden door centered along the back wall. At the top of the door was a serious-looking sign that read, “PRIVATE”, and a keypad entry system was attached to the knob.
“Whatever it is, I bet it’s private.” I nodded toward a man seated behind the bar, at the far corner. “Do you think he’s the owner?”
The man was tall and thick—without seeming overweight—and had wavy hair the color of a Timber Wolf. The portion of his face not covered by his Kenny Rogers beard looked rough and scarred. He wore a black pullover collared shirt with a black jacket.
Dawn scanned the entire area behind the bar, where three young women and one older guy ran back and forth from the giant liquor cabinet on the wall to the bar, sliding beer bottles and glasses of mixed drinks to thirsty customers. The man watched their movements like a panther ready to pounce.
“If he’s not the owner, he’s the bodyguard,” I said.
Dawn began pushing her way through the crowd, heading toward Timber Wolf. I followed and surveyed the faces in the crowd as we walked. I didn’t recognize anyone, so that was probably a good thing, considering most of the people I knew were bad.
I had just turned from my right and was sweeping to my left when my eyes caught movement directly behind Dawn. A rough hand reached out from the crowd and latched onto her left butt cheek, squeezing hard.
Before I could blink, Dawn wrapped her left arm around the man’s elbow and pivoted violently toward her right. Even in the noisy enclosure I heard his bone snap like a hollow branch in the dead of winter as Dawn wrenched it ninety degrees in the wrong direction. He let out a guttural scream, but it was cut short when Dawn chopped him to the throat with the ridge portion of her right hand.
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?”
