by Jim Riley
Saturday Afternoon
The Swamp
They trudged down the ridge without talking much, seeing an occasional moccasin and only one alligator. The gator was twenty feet from the ridge and made no effort to get closer. It merely watched as the two dirty hikers slogged through the swamp.
Weary and aching, they reached a wide trail.
"That is no deer trail," Dalton said excitedly.
"Then what are we waiting for, Senator.? I doubt if they’ll send out an escort for us."
They followed the path. It soon came to a bright clearing at the edge of Four Mile Bayou. Sitting on the edge of the clearing sat an old cedar cabin with a screened front porch.
A boat with an outdoor motor was tied up to the creosote pier. The tired couple edged onto the steps and rapped on the screen door.
They were surprised when an old man with jet black hair came out holding a shotgun.
"Whatcha want?" The grizzly old-timer asked.
His attire matched the camp. Flannel shirt, denim coveralls, white fisherman boots. His oily hair and stained chin indicated that showering and shaving were not part of his daily routine. The shotgun was a single barrel, coated with mud and rust.
“We had an accident. Can you give us a ride out of here?” Dalton asked.
"What kinda accident?"
"We lost our boat and had to walk through the swamp. Do you have some water? We're very thirsty."
Niki looked around and became more uncomfortable with each passing second.
"There's plenty of water right there." The old man pointed at the Bayou. "If it's good enough for me, it's good enough for you city folks."
"How about some food? We haven't eaten since yesterday at noon."
"Do you see a sign that says my place turned into a restaurant? I got no spare food."
"Can you give us a ride to the nearest landing?" Niki asked.
The old Cajun did not bother to answer her.
"Can we sit on the end of your dock and signal somebody for a ride?" Niki asked.
"Nope. Might break it."
Dalton sighed and turned toward Niki. "We might as well hike to the next camp. This guy isn't going to help us."
They walked off the steps and looked around, trying to decide which way to go.
"Hold on, Feller." The rough man stepped out on the porch. "I'll make you a deal."
Dalton brightened.
"I'm listening."
"I'll trade you some shine for a round with your cherie right there." The Cajun smiled, revealing several gaps where teeth once were.
"A round?" Dalton asked.
"You heard me. Me and the gal go in the house and when we come out, I’ll give you both a ride. I'll throw in some shine."
"No, thanks. We’ll go on down the Bayou." Dalton turned and took two steps away.
"I asked you real nice and even offered to trade you some of my shine. Now I'm telling you."
When Dalton looked over his shoulder, he saw the hole in the barrel pointed right at him.
“You only got a single shot,” Dalton said. “Even if you shoot me, Niki will take you.”
The Cajun laughed.
"That might be kinda fun. I ain’t wrestled with a gal since my cousin wouldn't do what I told her to do when we was fifteen. I enjoyed that, the wrestling and what came after."
"You don't know her. She isn't your fifteen-year-old cousin. She will whip your ass with one hand tied behind her back."
"We'll see."
The fisherman raised his old shotgun and pointed it at Dalton.
"Wait," Niki yelled. "I'll do it. I’ll go inside the camp with you."
The Cajun grinned, his missing teeth making Niki shudder. He addressed Dalton. "Your little Cherie just saved your life. Now you wait out here til we are done. You can't go nowhere in the swamp. I’d find you in less than an hour. Then I'd have to keep that little gal. Couldn't let her tell nobody what I done with you."
Niki put her hand on Dalton’s shoulder.
"It's okay. I know how to take care of myself."
"No," Dalton hissed. "There has to be another way. I can't let you do this."
"I don't see where we have any choice if we want to get both of us out of here alive."
"It's not worth it. I couldn't live with myself if I let that inbred do something to you."
"Relax, Senator. Just like in Congress, there will be two sides to this debate. I don't think he will like mine."
"He's got a gun."
"Yep. That is very observant for a politician. My goal is to not let him have it for long. But if you hear things aren’t going well, bring the Calvary."
He looked deep into her sky-blue eyes. "Are you sure?"
She nodded and stepped around him.
"It's your show, Boudreau." She said to the Cajun.
"My name ain't Boudreau. It's Thibodeau."
Niki almost laughed. "Are you serious? This is unreal."
The Cajun pointed the shotgun at Niki and motioned for her to go inside the camp. She glanced at Dalton and smiled before obeying.
When Niki step inside the building, she almost gagged from the stench. Mud, dirt, and grime covered every surface of the dwelling. Old food rotted by the cast-iron stove. Niki tried to discern its origin, but it looked like one big, muddy glob, fluid leaking toward the porcelain sink.
"First, you gotta get in the mood," the Cajun said from behind her. "You gotta have some shine first."
"I need to clean up," Niki said. "May I use your restroom?"
The old Cajun laughed.
"You just come in from it. Mama Nature is my bathroom."
The fisherman shoved her toward the far corner of the single room. A youth size bed stood on rickety legs. The covers were not spared from the dank and grime. Niki could not tell the original colors of the linens, but she knew they had not been washed in many months, if not years.
When she turned, the Cajun had an earthen jug. He sat it on the table and backed away, keeping his distance from her. The shotgun remained pointing at her chest.
"I'm not a drinker," she said. "Dr Pepper is the strongest beverage I ever have. No alcohol."
He laughed.
"You’ll have alcohol before the day is over. I'll guarantee that. After you get a taste of my shine, you ain't never going to drink one of them sissy drinks again."
"That's okay. I'll stick with Dr Pepper. You wouldn't have one around, would you?" She smiled at him.
"You gonna be fun, ain’t you? Now get that jug off the table and take yourself a big ol’ swig."
"Fine. If that's the way you want. But I'll be a lot more fun sober. I've never done it with a real Cajun before. You'll be my first."
A toothless grin. "I might just get rid of that boy out there and keep you here. Make them long nights a little shorter."
Niki smiled. "That's okay with me. I was getting tired of him, anyway. He doesn't know how to please a real woman."
"Damn," his grin grew. "I hit the jackpot. Just to be safe, get ya some of that shine. If ya do a good job the first time, then we'll do it without the shine next time."
Niki took a step forward and picked up the jar. Closing her eyes, she raised it to her lips and took a small sip. The moonshine tasted like tart acid, burning her mouth and throat. She coughed as the deadly liquid funneled down her stomach. Niki knew a few sips of this potent potable would be a death knoll for her. She would be in no condition to resist the Cajun's obvious intentions.
"Oh, my God," she uttered.
She fell to the floor, her eyes closed.
"You wadn't lyin', was ya?. You ain't no drinker."
The old man shucked his coveralls, keeping on the flannel shirt and the white fisherman's boots. He stepped around the table and poked the shotgun barrel in Niki's ribs. She groaned slightly, but kept her eyes closed and stayed on the floor.
"This is gonna be easier than I ever dreamed." The old man lay the shotgun on the table and knelt beside Niki. He ran one hand throug
h her dirty hair, though it was still filled with ashes.
Niki's hand struck lightning quick, despite the moonshine. One hand grabbed his arm and twisted. Her left hand drove deep into his throat, cutting off the vital oxygen supply. He fell back, startled and gasping for breath. In a futile attempt, he reached for the shotgun atop the table. Her foot hit him in the bridge of his nose. Blood spurted all over his white boots and flannel shirt.
The next kick landed in the stomach, already without air from the jab to his throat. The old Cajun collapsed on the floor, wheezing like a beached whale.
The door flew open, and Dalton charged inside. He quickly surveyed the situation and stopped. "I guess he didn't like your side of the debate."
"He got a little choked up over it," Niki laughed.
They found a roll of twine and tied up the old man. He was still having difficulty breathing.
"We should take him to the hospital in Morgan City," Dalton said. "You may have crushed his throat."
"That was my intention after he made me drink some of that poison. Straight gasoline couldn't taste much worse than that stuff."
"You did a good job. He won't be partaking of shine anytime soon."
Niki looked around.
"I'm starving, but I'm not eating anything from this dump. If I wanted to kill myself, I would have slept with Beaudreau."
Dalton laughed. “It's Thibodeau. At least with shine, you wouldn't feel any pain."
The Cajun regained a bit of breath. He glared at the young couple.
"You guys are in big trouble. I know the sheriff in Morgan City. She’s gonna lock you up."
"Uh oh," Niki winked at Dalton. "He knows the sheriff. Maybe we should let him go."
Dalton wiped his forehead. "I don't know any sheriffs. Do you think we should apologize and hope he won't tell on us?"
The old Cajun grinned. "Tell you what. If you cut me loose and give me back my shotgun, I'll take you to Morgan City myself. I won't even tell the sheriff what you did."
"Dalton," Niki smiled. "That sounds like an excellent offer. Maybe we ought to take it."
"Y'all better. The sheriff, she's going to be mighty pissed off. Y'all better take the deal while I'm still in the mood." The old Cajun pulled at the bindings.
"Wait," Niki exclaimed, her hand going toward her mouth. "I just remembered something. I know a senator. He's not a state senator, he's a United States senator."
"He ain't going to do you any good. The sheriff, she ain't gonna let you call him. Y'all will be in jail before you can shake a stick. You better take the deal. My sheriff knows how to get things done."
Niki laughed. "Mr. Thibodeau, let me introduce you to Senator Dalton Bridgestone, representing this great state of Louisiana. You know what? He knows how to get things done too."
Thibodeau's eyes looked like saucers when he turned to Dalton. "You've got to be kidding me?"
Dalton grinned. "Niki, you forgot to give Mr. Thibodeau some important information."
"Are you sure?" She asked.
"Yep. You forgot to tell this fine gentleman that you are a federal agent. When he pointed that shotgun at you and threatened to kill you, he committed a felony."
"Another one?" She feigned surprise. "I thought it was bad enough when he threatened to kill a federal senator."
Surprisingly, they found a cell phone in the dirty cam. Dalton dialed the emergency number, and the dispatcher connected him with the St. Mary Parish Sheriff.
"This is Kristi."
"Kristi, Dalton Bridgestone. I have a problem."
There was a pause on the other end. "Not the Dalton Bridgestone?"
"I don't know," Dalton laughed. "But if you're talking about me being the senator, yes, I'm the one."
"Well, this is an honor, senator," Kristi said. "What can I do for you today?"
"One of your folks threatened to kill me and another federal agent, and then he attempted to rape her."
"Do you have a name or a description?"
"Better than that, sheriff. We have him tied up at his camp on the Bayou. He said his name was Thibodeau."
"Not Terrel Thibodeau? It's not him. Is it?"
"Hold on," Dalton leaned over to the Cajun. "Is your first name Terrel?"
The Cajun nodded.
"Yes, Ma'am. That's the one."
"He is—how can I say this? He's not one of our most upstanding citizens. Did you say you were at his camp?"
"Yes, Ma'am. The agent, Mr. Thibodeau, and me."
"I'll get in touch with Hawk Theriot. He's the federal Ranger for the basin. Knowing Hawk, he'll be there before we hang up."
"Will he give us a ride to Morgan city?"
"Sure. If he gives you any trouble, tell him I won’t let him take me to Little Jade’s Seafood tonight. That'll get his attention."
Sunday Night
Denham Springs
After showering and shaving, they drove to Denham Springs. The Yellow Jacket Fire & Safety office was shut tight. The van was missing and all the lights were off.
"Where do you think he is?" Niki asked.
"I wish I knew. I'd like to get my hands on him."
"What do we do now?"
"Do you have anything pressing on the two cases?"
"Not much I can do on a Sunday night," Niki replied.
No sooner had she said this in her phone rang. Dalton heard only one side of the conversation.
“Yes, this is Niki Dupre.”
“Yes, Sheila. I can make time to see you.”
“Right now?” Niki glanced at Dalton. He nodded.
“Sure, where would you like to meet?”
“We'll be there in about twenty minutes.”
Niki hung up.
"She wants to me this at the Tiger Eye office. She said it was important."
The trip from Denham Springs to Sherwood Forest Blvd. took less than fifteen minutes. There was almost no traffic on the road on a Sunday evening. When they pulled into the office parking lot, Sheila Wilson's Ford Escalade was already there. The front door to the office was unlocked. They walked down the hallway to Scott's old office.
"Come on in," Sheila rose to greet them.
Niki and Dalton took seats on the opposite side of the deep cherry desk.
"What is it, Sheila?" Niki asked. "Why did you call us?"
“I need to tell you about a conversation I had with Ashton. He told me some things I believe are important to your investigation.”
"Go ahead," Niki said.
Sheila turned toward the senator. "Dalton, I don't know how much Niki has told you about my relationship with Ashton before Scott was killed."
Dalton leaned forward. "Enough to know that you two had an intimate association. She hasn’t told me any of the details, nor do I want to know them unless they help us find out who killed Scott."
"Fair enough," Sheila sighed. "We were having an affair. Then, it made a lot of sense, something I could rationalize because Scott was so focused on the business that he forgot to focus on our marriage."
"Then?" Niki asked.
"I'm looking at life with a different perspective," the widow answered. "And I don't like some things I did."
"What does this have to do with Scott's murder?"
Sheila took a tissue from her purse and wiped her nose.
"Are you saying your relationship with Ashton might have been a factor?" Niki asked.
"I'm not sure. That's why I wanted to talk to you."
"What changed, Sheila?"
"Ashton and I had lunch today. We haven't been together, I mean physically, since Scott died. He called me and wanted to go over some ideas."
"What did they do to make you think he was involved?"
"He told me he was glad that Scott was dead. He said it would be a lot easier for the two of us to take the company to a whole new level without Scott opposing everything he tried to do."
"Like what?" Niki asked.
"Ashton wants to open offices all throughout Louisiana. He wants Tige
r Eye to be the biggest financial services firm in the state. He said he tried to expand before, but Scott and Hugh Carter were against it. No matter what he said, they wouldn't change their minds."
"And now, if you and he form a team," Niki said, "then you will have enough power to overcome any objections from Hugh. Is that correct?"
"Yes. That was one thing he talked about. He was very excited about it," Sheila pulled another tissue from her purse. "He told me that Tiger Eye will be so profitable that each of us will be rich beyond our dreams."
"Will it?" Niki asked.
"I don't know. I called Hugh after lunch and discussed the idea with him. He wasn't for it."
"Why not?"
"Hugh said the risks outweighed the potential rewards, particularly without Scott."
"Why without Scott?" Niki asked.
"According to Hugh, Scott ran the day–to-day operations. He took care of all the problems whenever the firm was audited by the regulators. Scott made sure all the books were in order. Scott got the paperwork straight when an agent messed it up. That brought up the conversation about the agents."
"Was that also one of the disagreements?"
Sheila nodded. "Hugh admitted that he pushed the other two into hiring Dale Blocker, which didn't turn out to be such a good idea. He told me that Ashton hired Howard Jenkins and Sam Gonzales without letting either himself or Scott interview them. From what you know, they both turned out to be disasters for the company, putting his future in jeopardy."
Niki leaned back in her chair, effectively stopping the conversation.
"They don't have to worry about that anymore. Both of them are dead. Actually, all three are dead if you include Dale."
"I know," Sheila said. "I'll get to them in a minute. First, Hugh told me that Ashton did not have the skills to hire competent people to run the other offices Ashton wanted to open. Hugh nor I aren’t licensed, so we would have almost no input into the operation procedures these offices would use. He said if they messed up, the responsibility would fall on the entire Tiger Eye operation, specifically the owners. He said that based on Ashton's previous hires, he didn't want to risk his name on it."
