Murder at Tiger Eye

by Jim Riley

  Dalton was caught off guard by her frankness. "It's nice to meet you, Donna. I understand you're helping Niki with what happened to Scott Wilson."

  Donna’s grin could not have been bigger.

  "You betcha. I don’t know what to think. I've never had a boss get killed before, and I've never tried to help solve a murder before. Can you believe it?"

  Blake glanced over Niki’s shoulder.

  "I think they're ready to take your order."

  Niki turned back to the window and ordered two large tubs of popcorn with lots of extra butter along with another jumbo Dr Pepper. After receiving her order, she asked Donna, "Why don't you join us after the game? I missed lunch and Dalton is treating."

  Donna did not wait for Blake to answer.

  "We would love to. I've never eaten with a real senator before."

  "Okay," Niki said. “Why don't you guys meet us at Linda’s Chicken & Fish in Watson? I love their Cajun fried chicken livers.”

  Dalton shook his head when they returned to their seats.

  "She's something else."

  Niki laughed. "If you only knew. She's the receptionist at the investment office, but you would think she was the CEO. She knows more about what's going on in the office than the partners."

  "She has a big personality. Did you see the size of her beau? I mean, Jesus. He looked like he could stop a running locomotive with one arm."

  Niki threw some popcorn, dripping the butter, into her mouth.

  "Don't worry. Brains will beat brawn all the time."

  He laughed. "And how do you know he's not smart?"

  She gulped on the Dr Pepper. "Because he's on ‘roids. Nobody gets that chiseled look without being on some kind of PEDs, and nobody using performance enhancing drugs is overly bright."

  He smiled. "No wonder you're the best investigator in Baton Rouge. I didn't even think about steroids."

  "And that's why we make a cohesive team. You trust everybody, and I don't trust anybody. Together, we'll meet in the middle."

  Tommy Netterville did not look up in the stands when the teams returned from halftime.

  Niki nudged Dalton. "Boy, your nephew looks like he’s dragging. Maybe you should go check on him."

  "I can't do that. My sister would kill me. Besides, they have a trainer and a bunch of kids under him. If anything is wrong, they'll take care of him."

  Central's offense bogged down in the second half. Tommy’s passes were off target, sometimes missing his receiver by several yards. Most attempts were short and hit the turf well before arriving at the ends.

  Zachary's offense wore down the undersized Wildcat defense. The Broncos pounded the ball between the tackles, rolling over the smaller defensive line and linebackers. They scored a touchdown at the end of the third quarter and another in the middle of the fourth. With only a few minutes left in the game, the Wildcat defense stiffened and held the larger Broncos to a field goal.

  The Wildcat offense, led by sluggish Tommy Netterville, regained possession of the football trailing by three points. The ball was on their own thirty yard line with less than ninety seconds remaining in the game.

  Netterville trotted into the huddle, although trudged might be a better description. When the team broke the huddle Tommy stayed in the shotgun formation. He positioned himself three steps behind the center. Only he was not behind the center. He lined up behind the right offensive guard. The lone running back had to reposition Tommy behind the center.

  At the snap, Tommy fumbled the ball. He picked it up and charged into the line. The quarterback was sacked for a two yard loss. Because the Wildcats had burned all their timeouts, the clock kept running. With less than a minute left in the game, the Wildcats dumped the ball on second down. Tommy threw a pass over the heads of the players on the sideline.

  With thirty-seven seconds left on the clock, the home crowd was silent. The visiting crowd was agog with the certain victory over a hated rival in their grasp. Tommy plodded out of the huddle, his feet barely clearing the ground as he barked out the signals.

  The ball spiraled to him from the center, going through his hands, striking him in the stomach. Tommy tried to pick up the pigskin, but kicked it with his foot. The running back leapt past Tommy and recovered the ball. Only fifteen seconds remained.

  The Wildcats hurried to line up. At five seconds they were in position. The fourth down began when the ball snapped with only two seconds showing on the clock. Tommy grabbed the ball. A blitzing linebacker flew at him. Displaying footwork missing for the entire second half, Tommy sidestepped the aggressive defensive player. He rolled out to his right. A cornerback, seeing Netterville out of the pocket, broke his coverage on the wide receiver and raced to deliver the final blow on his hated foe. The quick defensive back zeroed in on the quarterback like a wolf after a deer fawn. Just before impact, Tommy released the pass. The perfect spiral hit the receiver in stride sixty yards down the field. The jubilant end carried the football into the end zone, ensuring victory for Central.

  The crowd erupted. Grown men acted like kids, tossing hats, cushions and anything else handy into the air. Cheerleaders danced onto the field, hugging players and coaches alike. The fans in the visitor stands stood in stunned silence.

  The Bronco players mulled around in a state of shock. Their coaches stood frozen on the sidelines.

  Only one person in the entire stadium was not standing. Tommy Netterville continued to lie on the field, flat on his back where the cornerback hit him. Two offensive linemen tried to pick him up to join the celebration, but there was no response.

  Tommy Netterville's perfect pass to win the game for Central was the last past of his young life. His body remained motionless. Paramedics rushed to his side, with Dalton Bridgestone only a step behind them. Niki Dupre knelt beside Dalton while the EMTs applied CPR on the player.

  When they removed Tommy’s helmet, Niki noticed the bright red splotches covering his swollen face. Then she saw similar crimson patterns on his arms and legs. After a couple of minutes, the medical personnel ceased their attempts to revive Tommy.

  Tommy's mother, Dalton's sister, looked over Niki’s shoulder. In the silence around her son, the mother let out a soul wrenching wail. Another followed. The distraught mother collapsed at the twenty-yard line. The paramedics quickly turned their attention to the fallen lady.

  Dalton rose, his face displaying the shock he felt. He whispered to Niki, "I can't believe this. I can't believe he is gone."

  She hugged him.

  "You need to be there for your sister. She needs you now more than ever."

  His reply was unintelligible.

  "Look, Dalton. You have to be strong for your sister. No mother should ever witness the death of her son."

  Dalton nodded. "You're right. Please tell that young couple I'm sorry. I have to go to the hospital."

  "Geez, I forgot all about them. They probably didn’t recognize that Tommy was your nephew. We never told them which player was related to you."

  "It's okay. I’ll be with my sister tonight. It's not pleasant, but she doesn't need to go through this alone."

  "I'm going with you. I can call the restaurant and get in touch with them that way. I want to be with you right now."

  He hugged her. "I really appreciate it, but my sister probably needs tonight to let her emotions out. The more privacy we have, the easier it’ll be to bare her soul. I'll call her Pastor."

  "But I'm worried about you."

  "No need. I’ll be fine. I loved Tommy and I love my sister. She’ll need me there for my other two nephews. It's gonna be hard on them, but I know them. They’ll want to handle this as a family."

  "Are you sure? I want to be there."

  He hugged her even tighter. "There will be plenty of days ahead when I'll need someone to talk to."

  "I'll be there," Niki said.

  She watched as the ambulance took Tommy's body and Dalton’s sister off the field. Then she reluctantly headed for the restaurant.


  Friday Night

  Linda's Chicken & Fish

  "Sorry I'm late," Niki told Donna and Blake when she took her seat at the local restaurant. "That was Dalton's nephew that collapsed after the game."

  Donna put her hand to her mouth.

  "Is he okay?"

  "No. Unfortunately, he passed away."

  Blake groaned. "I knew he got hit hard on that last pass, but I didn't think it was that hard."

  Niki waved off the waitress.

  "I'm not staying long. I only wanted to let these guys know what was happening."

  Donna put her hand out. "Don't worry about us. We had no idea Tommy was the senator's nephew. Different last name, you know." She looked at Blake. "We didn't know he was dead. That's horrible."

  Niki nodded. "He and Dalton were close. He told me not to worry, but I could tell how hard this hit him. I want to be available if he needs to talk."

  "No problem with us. We're sorry about Tommy. I mean, dying from getting hit too hard on the last play the game. I still can't believe it," Donna said.

  "I don't think the hit was the reason he died. There was a medical issue. I don't know exactly what it was, but there was something wrong."

  Niki stood to leave.

  Donna asked, "Do you still want to meet in the morning? I mean, this changes things."

  "Let's plan to meet. Give me your cell number, and I'll call you if I can't make it."

  Donna smiled. "I'll be there. I've given some thought to this whole deal. I think I can narrow down the list of suspects are you."

  "Great. I'll see you in the morning."

  Niki left the table. On her way out, she handed a one-hundred-dollar bill to the waitress.

  "Make sure they get whatever they want. Wait." She handed the waitress another bill. "That should cover it. Let them know they can order anything on the menu."

  Saturday Morning

  Tiger Eye Investors

  Fifteen minutes before eight o'clock, Niki pulled her Ford Explorer into the investment advisor's parking lot. She was pleasantly surprised to see Donna’s yellow Camaro already there. When she tapped on the door, Donna opened it immediately.

  "Hey there," Niki said to the young lady. "You're here awful early."

  "I couldn't wait. It’s so exciting to be part of your investigation. Nothing like this has ever happened to me."

  "How long have you been here?"

  Donna smiled. "For it couple of hours. I think I've saved you some time. Thanks for treating us to dinner last night. Blake was impressed."

  They walked back to Scott Wilson's office. Niki saw three distinct piles of files and folders on his conference table. Donna pointed at the nearest stack.

  "Those are the folks who said nasty things to Mr. Wilson, but there's no way they could have done it."

  "Why not?" Niki asked.

  "They are too old or have a physical shortcoming, or in a couple of cases, they were out of town."

  "Outstanding. How about the other stacks?"

  "The second stack," the blonde placed her hand on the pile, "are maybes. They could have done it, but based on my interaction with them, I don't think they have the personality to kill someone. I know I could be wrong. That's why they’re in the second stack rather than the first."

  Niki walked to the third stack of files. It was significantly smaller than the other two. Niki estimated it only had a half a dozen folders.

  "These must be the money files," Niki said.

  "Yes, Ma'am. Those are at the top of my list. At least for the clients."

  "Are you saying there are more people on the staff you put on your list? I already have Johnson and Howard Jenkins fairly far up there, and Sheila Wilson."

  Donna pointed at four green folders on the former investor’s desk. "I figured those three should stay on there plus four more."

  Niki shook her head. "That gives us about a dozen serious contenders. Which one do you want to start with?"

  The blonde picked up a green folder.

  "Sam Gonzalez."

  "Why him?" Niki asked as she took the folder from Donna.

  "He's—I don't want to sound insulting."

  Niki laughed. "Were talking about a murder. Somebody wasn't too concerned about manners when they stuck Scott Wilson in the back. Tell me what you're thinking."

  "Sam is more blue collar than the other guys."

  "How so?"

  "He grew up in Livingston Parish, outside of French settlement. He belonged to a Mexican gang when he was a teenager, and he dropped out of high school. He ended up in prison and got his GED there. Then he got a finance degree from an online college. Mr. Johnson loved him, but Mr. Wilson didn't share that opinion."

  "Did they have a disagreement?"

  Donna nodded. "One of our clients, a real good one, said Sam lied to him. The client told Mr. Wilson that Sam told him if the invested in a certain mutual fund, there was only an upside. Sam told him that he could not lose money, at least according to the client."

  Niki chuckled. "I assume that the current market drove that mutual fund down."

  "About thirty percent. From what I heard, the client was pissed off. Mr. Wilson believes the client. Mr. Johnson believed Sam."

  "Was there a confrontation?"

  "Yes, Ma'am. The three of them met in the conference room Tuesday afternoon. We could all hear them yelling and hollering even though the door was closed.”

  “Sam threatened Scott or Scott threatened Sam?”

  "I don't know exactly what was said, but Sam slammed the door when he left the conference room. In fact, he left the building."

  "How did Sam act Wednesday?"

  "He stayed in his office all day with the door closed. He told me to hold all of his calls. He didn't even come out for lunch."

  "Could he have taken your letter opener?"

  "Yes, Ma'am. But anybody else could have. It’s on top of my desk, right next to my inbox. That made it easy for me to get to it to open the mail. I don't think we can narrow that to Sam."

  "Anything else?" Niki asked.

  "Just the way it was done."

  "What do you mean?"

  Donna sighed. "Sam went to prison because he stabbed another kid in a different gang. He stabbed him in the back with a screwdriver."

  Niki whistled. Her cell buzzed. Recognizing the number of her assistant, she answered immediately.

  "Good news," Dick Trahan said. "I've got a lead in the Martin kidnapping."

  Stacy Martin disappeared after her father picked her up after school on Monday. Ralph Martin and his wife were going through a difficult divorce, and the court had yet to determine custody rights. In the interim, the judge gave full custody to Mrs. Martin with Ralph able to visit Stacy in her home every other weekend. There was no lawful reason for the father to pick up his daughter from school.

  "Hey, you did a good job with the Brenda Thompson case. She's back with her parents. What do you have on Stacy?"

  "A friend of mine knows Ralph Martin. They used to work together at a commercial hunting operation in Ville Platte. My friend spotted Ralph at the Walmart over there this morning. I bet Martin has Stacy at one of those cabins on the property."

  "How sure are you?"

  "It's an educated guess. My friend said Martin had all kinds of junk food in his basket. You know, soda pop, potato chips, macaroni and cheese, and candy. That sort of stuff. I figured that's the kind of stuff an eight-year-old girl would like."

  "Sounds like it to me. Maybe we can close another case. Keep that up and you won’t need me. You can open your own agency."

  “Not me, Niki," Dirk responded. "I know my strengths and I know my weaknesses. I'm a helluva detective, but I'm a terrible businessman. When I had my own agency, I spent most of my time looking for lost kittens and puppies, and then not billing the owners. That's not a good recipe for success.”

  Niki chuckled. "I understand. I've got a lot more business and potential business than I can manage by myself. If you w
ant to come on board on a more professional basis, I'd like to have you."

  "Sounds good to me. Let's talk when you get back from Ville Platte. I've got four more of your cases to work on."

  Niki hung up and looked apologetically at Donna. Before Niki could say anything, Donna was already stacking green folders and manila files in a box.

  "Let's take these with us. I can tell you about each of them on the way to Ville Platte," Donna said.

  Niki held up her hand. "Wait a second. I have to go, not you. This is a child kidnapping case. I don't know what I might run into when we get there."

  "That's why you need me to go with you. Besides, you're paying me for the weekend. We need to spend our time wisely. What better way to do that than go over our list of suspects while you're driving?"

  "Our list of suspects?" Niki asked.

  "Sure. I just heard you say that you have more business than you can handle. Seems to me you could use my help."

  "But you have a future in this business. In investments."

  Donna scoffed. "Are you kidding? The only reason they hired me is I've got big boobs and firm legs. Did you notice that every representative I mentioned to you is a male? Plus, they're all white, except for Sam. Diversity is not at the top of their priority list.",

  Niki shook her head. "I didn't even think about it. Somehow investing seems like a man's sport."

  “So was owning a business at one time, but now you own one and you're in demand. How many female private investigators were there and Baton Rouge twenty-five years ago?”

  "I'm the only one even today with an independent agency," Niki smiled. "Wow, I never thought of that either."

  Donna laughed. “Welcome to the age of the millennials. We think of everything. Now, are you gonna help me pack these folders or will you be one of those types of bosses?"

  "I'll tell you what. Keep your job here for the time being. You can help me nights and weekends until we solve this case. That will give me time to get to know you and for you time to get to know me. Then we can both make an intelligent decision."

  Niki and Donna packed the Ford Explorer with the files and they struck out toward Ville Platte, again traveling west on Highway 90 through Opelousas.