by BJ Bourg
“These are all evidence,” I said. “And some are damn nice weapons.”
Dawn just mumbled something as she scanned the labels on the drawers of the filing cabinets. Finally, she called out that she’d found a cabinet from thirty years ago. Shuffling through the smaller keys on the ring, she finally found one that unlocked the drawers. “What month do you think the murder happened?”
I joined her and peeked over her shoulder. “They were about to graduate, so maybe April or May?”
She pulled out an oversized folder and handed it to me. “This is May. I’ll check April.”
She plopped down on the floor with her folder, and I sat beside her with mine. Shoving our flashlights under an armpit, we each began perusing the case files, reading the headings one at a time, slowly slogging through the thick pile of paperwork. Before long, sweat formed on my forehead and began dripping on the files.
“Shit, I’m leaving my DNA everywhere,” I said, stopping to wipe my brow.
“Me, too.” Dawn fanned herself with one of the files and checked her phone. “It’s only been twenty minutes.”
“I haven’t even made a dent in my stack.” I placed the file I’d just finished reading to the side and grabbed the next one, settling in for the long haul.
We worked until lunch, ate a quick meal, and then returned to the mountain of files. It must’ve been nearing three o’clock in the afternoon when I checked the subject line on a file and stopped dead in my tracks. “Wait a minute, this might be it.”
I turned it so Dawn could read, too. The subject line read, “Girl found nude, possible rape.”
My heart began to race as I read the narrative. A nurse on a smoke break stumbled upon a nude girl lying on the sidewalk outside of Seasville General Hospital. The girl—who was only referred to as “16-year-old juvenile female” in the report—was found unresponsive and there were bruises and abrasions covering her body. The nurse summoned help and they brought the girl into the emergency room, where they began treating her minor injuries, as well as trying to get her to regain consciousness. All attempts failed and she remained in a coma for a week. She woke up from the coma with no memory of how she’d come to be in the parking lot of the hospital and no recollection of the preceding events. The last thing she remembered was getting home from school that day.
Dawn leaned over me and pointed toward the bottom of the first page of the report. “Her mom reported her missing later that same day.”
I followed her finger and read the part where a Linda Blais had contacted the sheriff’s office to report that her daughter disappeared from the back yard. Mrs. Blais was at work and had received a call from her daughter to say she’d gotten home from school and would be reading in the back yard. When the woman got home from work, her daughter was nowhere to be found. There was nothing but a book on the ground near the swimming pool. The deputy easily made the connection between the missing person case and the nude girl located at the hospital. Mrs. Blais later identified the girl as her daughter.
“Where’d she go missing from?” Dawn asked.
“Her back yard.”
She playfully elbowed me in the ribs. “You know what I mean.”
I flipped through the pages of the report until I found Linda Blais’ address. “Holy smokes…she lived on Ender’s Lane.”
CHAPTER 49
It was almost knockoff time and we were exhausted when Dawn turned her cruiser down Ender’s Lane. We had run an address inquiry for Linda Blais and confirmed she was still living at the same address.
I pointed to Dawn’s clothes, which were rumpled and covered in dust, same as mine. “Do you think she’ll believe we’re cops? We look more like beggars.”
“At this point, I’m so tired I don’t even care. If she doesn’t believe us, we’ll go home and come back tomorrow in a marked cruiser and full uniform. We can even blow the siren if we have to.”
Linda Blais’ house was toward the end of the street and on the right. It was small, but the gray paintjob was fresh and the yard was manicured. I remembered seeing it and thinking it was one of the nicer yards in the area when we’d driven to the back of the street to search for the old man’s grave.
A small brown car was parked under an open carport and a handicapped ramp led to the side door. Access to the front door was blocked by a large rose bush, so we proceeded under the carport. Before we reached the handicap ramp, the storm door opened and a tall woman with an air of confidence stepped outside. Her skin was smooth and her body sculptured. She wore painted-on leggings and a skimpy tank top that revealed way too much of her abundant cleavage. She couldn’t have been more than fifty, and I quickly did the math in my head.
“This could be our victim,” I said out of the corner of my mouth as we approached the woman.
Dawn nodded and waved.
“Well, hello.” The woman’s smile was radiant. “It looks like I’m having a better day than you two.”
Dawn apologized for our appearance. “We’ve been searching through old files back at the office and it’s urgent that we speak with someone about a case we found.”
“Sure.” The woman’s expression turned curious. “I was about to go out, but I’ve got time. Come on in.”
We followed her into a small kitchen and she pointed to a round wooden table pushed into one corner of the room. “Care for anything to drink? I’ve got water and protein shakes.”
Dawn waved her off. “We’re fine, thanks.”
The woman grabbed a bottle of water and joined us.
“We’re looking for a Linda Blais,” Dawn began. “It’s about her daughter who went missing thirty years ago.”
The woman touched her chest. “I’m Linda.”
My head snapped up in disbelief. Without thinking, I blurted, “How old are you?”
Realizing the outburst was complimentary, Linda blushed. “I’m almost sixty.”
My jaw must’ve been hanging, because Dawn kicked my foot under the table. I apologized. “I thought you were the sixteen-year-old girl in the report.”
“I had Cindy when I was fourteen.” Linda frowned and there was sadness in her eyes. “Some people considered her a mistake, but I considered her a blessing. She’s the only child I ever had and the best thing that ever happened to me.”
Dawn slid the report across the table. “We needed to talk to you about the day Cindy disappeared.”
“I don’t understand. Cindy was located later that same day.”
“We saw that in the report,” Dawn said, “but we couldn’t find any follow-up report. Did you ever find out what happened? Did she ever get her memory back?”
Linda lowered her head. “That’s a mystery I live with every day. I sent Cindy to every therapist I could find. We even took her to a hypnotist and a psychic, but no one could help her remember what happened. It’s like she lost a small, but significant, part of her life. Whatever it was, it changed her…for the worse.”
Dawn cocked her head sideways. “What do you mean?”
“Not long after that happened, she started acting out at home and at school. Her grades slipped. She went from being an all A student to barely making C’s. She’d never had a boyfriend in her life, but all of a sudden she was sex crazy—or curious, I should say. She got caught kissing a boy under the stadium one day and then she was caught kissing a girl at the same place the following week. I came home one afternoon to find a half naked boy crawling out of her bedroom window and I even found weed in a box under her bed. It got so bad I couldn’t control her anymore, so I sent her to live with her dad out of state.” Linda paused to shake her head and tears fell from her eyes. “It’s the worst mistake I ever made…the day I sent her away was the day I lost my little bundle of joy forever. I should’ve been more patient with her.”
Dawn looked and me and nodded. “Her behavior makes perfect sense.”
“What are you talking about?” Linda asked. “What makes perfect sense?”
“Ma’am, we really
need to speak with your daughter.”
“But what makes sense?”
“I’m sorry to be the one to break this to you,” Dawn said slowly, “but your daughter was attacked that day.”
“I don’t understand.”
Dawn shot a thumb toward the back of the street. “She went fishing out by Dead Man’s Canal and an elderly man approached her and violated her.”
Linda gasped, threw a hand to her throat. “You mean…she was sexually assaulted?”
Dawn frowned. “I’m afraid so. The behavior she displayed after the incident is consistent with someone who has endured such abuse. Now, we really need to speak with her, so if you can—”
“Did…did you catch the man? Who was he?”
“We believe we know who was responsible, but things are a bit complicated.” Dawn paused and put a hand on Linda’s forearm. “It’s very important we speak with Cindy as soon as possible.”
Linda shook her head from side to side as more tars rained down. “I don’t know how to get in touch with her. I haven’t heard from her in years. Sure, when she first moved away she would visit a few times each year—on holidays mostly—but as she got older the visits become less frequent.”
“Where does her dad live?”
“Somewhere in Kentucky. I think it’s around the Red River Gorge area.”
“Wait a minute…” Little creases formed between Dawn’s eyes as she scrunched up her face. “Cindy—is her real name Cynthia?”
Linda nodded. “It is.”
“Cynthia Alvey?”
“Yeah, that’s her married name. I don’t know if they’re still together—” Linda stopped talking and looked from Dawn to me and then back to Dawn. “Hold on, how did you know her name? Did you talk to her? Is she here in Seasville? Did she come back and not tell me?” The hurt in Linda’s eyes was obvious as she buried her face in her hands. “Oh, God, she hates me! Why else wouldn’t she tell me she was coming back home?”
Dawn moved closer to Linda and put a hand on her back, trying to soothe her. “It’s okay, ma’am. I’m sure she’s just real busy.”
Yeah, I thought, busy getting her ass kicked on a regular basis. A guy like Hank Alvey…he wouldn’t want his wife spending too much time with her family. She might confide in her mom that Hank was beating her, and that would bolster a domestic battery case against him.
Once Linda was calmer, Dawn asked if Cynthia had ever displayed signs of violence.
“Not my Cindy. She would never hurt anyone or anything.” She looked up, her eyes bloodshot and clouded over. “Why do you ask?”
“No reason,” Dawn said idly.
After promising to reunite Linda with Cynthia when the investigation was concluded, Dawn and I left Lower Seasville and returned to the substation.
Dawn made arrangements for Norm to take two divers to Dead Man’s Canal first thing in the morning to search for Theodore Simoneaux’s boat, and we shut down for the night.
“What do you say we interview Cynthia in the morning?” Dawn suggested when we’d walked out to the parking lot, where our cars were parked side by side. “If we wait until Hank leaves for work she might be more willing to talk.”
“How do you think she factors into this?” I leaned against my truck and faced Dawn, who was leaning against her car. “Do you think it’s possible she killed Wilton and Shelton?”
“Why would she do that?” Dawn’s eyelids were droopy. She looked sexy when she was tired. “They tried to save her. Hell, they murdered a man for her.”
I just nodded, staring Dawn right in the eyes. She stared right back at me. Her lips parted ever so slightly and she ran her tongue across her lips to moisten them. I pushed off my truck and wrapped my hands around the sides of her face, pulling her mouth to mine. I was struck by how soft her lips felt; considering she was one of the toughest women I’d ever met. Her tongue was cool and moist as it explored my mouth. Her breasts were firm against my chest and it excited me. She rubbed my neck and earlobes with her hands and I ran mine low on her back.
We kissed for what seemed like a small eternity and we were both breathless when we pulled away from each other.
“Where’d that come from?” Dawn asked, her eyes glistening in the glow from the streetlights.
“I was trying to hold out for our date,” I said, “but this case is taking way too damn long.”
“I’m glad you feel that way.” Dawn leaned forward and kissed my neck, which caused a chill to reverberate up and down my spine. “See you tomorrow, then?”
CHAPTER 50
Thursday, October 11
Dawn tried desperately to fall asleep, knowing they would have a busy day tomorrow, but she couldn’t get her mind off of London. She dozed off some time after midnight, but her eyes popped open at around three. She could still taste the spearmint on London’s breath. His kiss had stirred up feelings that had long lay dormant inside her body. It was rough and animalistic, but gentle all at the same time. She felt a sense of warmth radiating from inside her chest all the way down to her pelvis. The slightest touch of her skin caused a tingling sensation that gave her the chills. She glanced often at her phone to check the time, and strongly considered calling London. She rolled onto her back and closed her eyes, trying to go back to sleep.
What would he say if I invited him over? she thought. If I was sure he’d come, I’d definitely—
She jerked in her skin when her phone began ringing. London!
She scrambled onto her side and snatched the phone off of the end table, blinking to focus on the screen. She sighed when she saw a number she didn’t recognize. She considered letting it go to voicemail, but figured it had to be urgent given the time of the morning.
“This is Dawn,” she said.
“Hello? Is this Detective Dawn?” It was a woman’s voice and she was whispering.
“Yes, it is. Who is this?”
“You gave me your number and told me to call if I ever needed anything.”
Dawn sat up, fully alert now. “Cynthia? Is everything okay?”
Cynthia began whimpering. “He’s going to kill me.”
“Is it Hank? Is he hurting you again?”
“I…I think he did something bad and when I asked him about it he started beating me. He hurt me really bad this time.” Her voice cracked. “Oh, God, he’s outside the bathroom door. He’s going to kill me!”
Dawn heard loud banging in the background.
“He’s trying to break the door down,” Cynthia wailed. “I’m going to open it. If not, he’ll kill me.”
“No, don’t let him in!” Dawn was pulling on a pair of jeans while holding the phone to her ear with a shoulder. “If he gets in you need to fight, you hear me?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Do you have a weapon?”
“I…I bought a gun two days ago.”
“Do you have it with you?”
“I do, but I…I don’t know if I can use it.” Cynthia was crying. “I don’t think I can hurt anyone.”
Dawn snatched up her police radio and keyed it up, speaking rapidly into the mic. She gave out Cynthia’s address and provided the code for domestic violence. “Get a car out there quick—the husband is trying to kill her!”
After shoving her holster into her waistband, she shot a text message to London as she ran out the door, all the while keeping Cynthia talking on the phone.
“Do you know if it’s a revolver or a semi-automatic pistol?” Dawn jumped in her Charger and fired it up, speeding out of her driveway like a crazy woman.
“It’s one of those cowboy guns.”
“Is it loaded?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
Someone radioed that they were two blocks away, but the radio was muffled and Dawn didn’t recognize the voice.
“The deputy’s almost there,” Dawn said. “Just hang in for a few more—”
“Oh, God…no!”
The line went dead and Dawn’s heart sank. She quickly dialed London�
��s number.
“I got your message,” he said. “I’m almost there. What do you know so far?”
“Cynthia was locked in the bathroom and Hank was trying to get inside when the line went dead.”
Tires screeched over the phone and Dawn heard a door slam.
“Okay, I’m here,” London said. “I’ll call you as soon as I can.”
Dawn took a breath. “Be careful, London…she’s got a gun.”
CHAPTER 51
Interview Room 1, Detective Bureau, Payneville, LA
“Can you tell me what happened after the phone went dead?” Dawn asked, pushing the signed Miranda rights form aside. She and Cynthia were sitting across the desk from me. “I know you saw Detective Carter out at the scene.”
“I did.” Cynthia’s voice was somber, barely a whisper. “He got to the house first.”
She was right, I did get to the house first, but I’d been too late. She had shot Hank through the bathroom door, hitting him four times out of six with her .357 revolver. I found her crying on the toilet, covered in blood and beat to a pulp. After taking possession of the gun, which had an obliterated serial number, I made sure Hank was no longer a threat and then ushered her out of the house and into a waiting ambulance. They transported her to the hospital while I remained on the scene waiting for a patrol supervisor to arrive.
Before leaving the house, I’d instructed the patrol supervisor to secure the scene until Melvin and Rachael could process it. Next, I’d met Dawn at the detective bureau and we’d driven to the hospital together to see about Cynthia. It had taken an hour, or so, for the hospital staff to patch her up, but we’d waited with her until they were done.
We were finally sitting with her and hopefully about to get some answers to the many questions swirling around in our heads.
