But Not Foreseen

by BJ Bourg

  “Let me know what I can do to help,” I said. “I’ll be around. After I grab some food, I’ll have to take a shower, get some clean clothes on, and then meet with Alice Pierce and her mom at the hospital. I got a text message from the hospital about twenty minutes ago saying she’s still in shock, but she finally started talking a little. I hope she’s able to tell us something concrete. I’m afraid she’s the only one who can help piece this crime spree together.”

  “By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask”—Sheriff Turner’s brows furrowed—“what’s all that brown stuff on your jeans?”

  “Shit.”

  “Huh?” he asked.

  “Shit.”

  “Shit what?”

  “I’ve got shit all over me,” I explained. “Alice jumped in an outhouse tank to hide from the killer, and we had to fish her out of that sloppy mess. This”—I waved a hand over my dirty clothes—“is nothing compared to what she endured. She was buried in the stuff, and she was down there for about a day and a half.”

  “Wow!” He shook his head in surprise. “That takes some fortitude. I think I’d rather die than jump in a bucket of shit.”

  “Me, too.” I frowned as I remembered the blank expression on Alice’s face when she’d looked up from the bowels of the outhouse and into our bright lights. Anyone would’ve been deeply traumatized after suffering such an experience. Losing her dad was bad enough and would scar her for life, but to be stuck in that tomb of human waste for so long, wondering if she’d ever be found?

  I was betting she’d have to undergo extensive therapy to recover from the trauma she’d experienced. Hell, she might never recover. She also might not remember everything that had happened on that horrific weekend. My only hope for today was that she could tell us enough to help identify the man who had brutally murdered her father and Deputy Jenny Billiot. For, if she couldn’t, our town was going to be in real trouble.

  CHAPTER 20

  Although I spent about twenty minutes in the shower, scrubbing like a madman, it didn’t feel like I’d done enough to remove the filth.

  “Did I get the stench off?” I asked Susan when I stepped out.

  She leaned into me and took a big whiff from my neck. Her nose was cold against my flesh and it sent a shiver up and down my spine. “Yum, you smell good.”

  “The stench must be stuck in my nostrils then, because I can still smell that outhouse.”

  “Yeah, it’s in your head.” She began stripping off her clothes. “Once I’m done here, I’m heading back to the office. Your mom said she’ll stay here as long as we need her, or she can take Gracie to her house. I told her it might be a while, because it doesn’t seem like we’re close to catching this suspect.”

  I stopped and stared as her bra hit the floor, exposing her voluptuous breasts. I needed to leave, but I couldn’t tear myself away.

  “Pick up your tongue and get back to work, sir,” she said with a laugh. “The sooner you solve this case, the sooner we can have another conversation.”

  I grinned widely—the first time I’d done so since finding Chad Pierce in his hammock—and turned to leave. We had taken to referring to sex as a conversation for Grace’s benefit. It had all begun one day when Susan and I had walked out of our bedroom to find Grace sitting on the floor outside the door. Speaking a language we barely understood, she asked what we were doing. Thinking quickly, Susan had blurted, “Mommy and Daddy were having a conversation.”

  Now, every time Susan said the word conversation, she blushed brightly.

  I turned to head downstairs when Susan called out to me. I turned to see her standing there completely naked, her face beaming.

  “I know we’re an old married couple now,” she said slowly, “but I love the way you still look at me.”

  “Speak for yourself,” I said with a grunt. “I ain’t old.”

  So saying, I ripped my eyes away and rushed downstairs. I stopped long enough to kiss Grace, rub Coco and Achilles’ ears, and wave to my mom.

  Finally back in my new Tahoe, I picked Amy up at the police department and we headed for the hospital. She had also showered and changed into fresh clothes. The edges of her blonde hair were still wet and her face was flushed from what had probably been a steaming hot shower.

  “God, it feels good to be clean again,” she said.

  I nodded idly, lost in thought. My mind had raced ahead to the hospital and I was wondering what we might learn from Alice.

  “You know, even Takecia has a boyfriend now,” Amy said after about fifteen minutes of silence. “Melvin’s married, you and Susan are married, Regan’s married, and now Takecia’s in love. I’m the only one who doesn’t have anyone. I guess I’ll be spending Thanksgiving—”

  “Takecia’s in love?” I asked, interrupting her. My curiosity was thoroughly aroused now. I knew that Takecia had started dating Detective Lou Baker’s brother—what the hell was his name again?—but Susan hadn’t said anything about her being in love.

  “Yep.” Amy nodded her head confidently. “She’s finally in love.”

  “Did she say she was in love?”

  Amy twisted around to face me full-on. “Are you kidding right now? A girl doesn’t have to say she’s in love—you can see it all over her. Well, if you know what to look for, anyway.”

  “What’s the fellow’s name again?”

  “Jeremiah Baker. I haven’t met him yet, but Takecia sure fell head over heels for him.”

  A smile played across my face as I drove. I was happy for Takecia. She was a loyal person and a fine woman, but her lifestyle as a fighter and a cop had intimidated most men up to this point in her life, making it difficult for her to find a suitable mate. Amy was having a similar problem, thanks to her strong personality.

  The smile suddenly fell from my mouth. “Wait a minute…you said you’re the only one who doesn’t have anyone. That’s not true—Baylor’s single.”

  “Is he?” she asked, surprised. “I thought he was dating someone.”

  “Nah, he went on a few dates with this one girl, but things didn’t work out. He said she was really nice, but they both agreed there was no chemistry between them. She told him he seemed a little too dangerous for her tastes.”

  “Too dangerous?” Amy’s brow furrowed. “What does that even mean?”

  I shrugged. “Hell if I know. I guess she couldn’t handle his job. It’s not for everyone, you know.”

  “Well, then, I guess I won’t be the only one spending Thanksgiving alone.”

  I didn’t like the idea of anyone eating alone, so I made a mental note to talk to Susan about inviting her over for dinner. Amy turned away and stared out the front windshield, humming as she did so. I suddenly became suspicious. “Was I just played?”

  “What do you mean?” she asked blandly.

  “You just baited me so you could find out if Baylor was single,” I said, proud of myself for catching on to the game. “You’re interested in Baylor!”

  She let out a laugh, but it sounded forced to me. “Yeah, whatever,” she said with a smirk. “You know me better than that.”

  “It doesn’t matter anyway.” I waved a hand in the air. “He’s got a date scheduled with Mallory Tuttle. I think it’s for this weekend? I’m sure she won’t find him too dangerous. In fact, I think they’ll hit it off just—”

  “Wait, what?” Her voice was almost shrill. “Mallory and Baylor are going on a date?”

  I grinned. “Are you forgetting who taught you the ins and outs of interrogations?”

  She tried to stifle a chuckle, but couldn’t. “Okay, maybe I’m a little interested, but don’t tell anyone.”

  I said nothing as I continued to drive.

  “Clint, please, you’ve got to promise not to say anything!”

  “You know I can’t keep secrets from Susan. Her powers of perception are stronger than a traiteur’s power of healing.”

  “I don’t care if Susan knows,” Amy said with a sigh. “Just don’t tell Bay
lor.”

  I grunted and cracked a devilish smile, which brought a panicked gasp from Amy.

  “Clint, I swear, you’d better not—”

  “Oh, look,” I said, indicating the hospital parking lot to our left. “We’re already here. I want you to take the lead in the interview.”

  CHAPTER 21

  The charge nurse at Chateau General Hospital introduced me and Amy to the grief counselor, a young woman named Tessa Wright.

  She smiled and shook Amy’s hand first and then mine. Her hand was small but her grip firm. “It’s nice to meet both of you.” Her brown face lit up when she smiled. “Alice is in the counseling center with her mother. If it’s okay, you can speak with her there.”

  I nodded and she led the way down a long corridor at a brisk pace. Her heels clicked loudly against the tile floor and her dress swished as she walked.

  “How’s Alice holding up?” I asked when we had reached the door to the counseling center. “Physically, I mean. Is she injured in any way? Did they hurt her?”

  “Other than a few bumps and bruises, she seems to be in good physical health.” She lowered her eyes and kept her voice to a whisper. “Emotionally, it’s a much different story. Up until two hours ago, she hadn’t said a single word since getting here last night. She’s still not in a talkative mood, which is perfectly normal under the circumstances, but she is saying a few things.”

  I nodded my understanding as she twisted the knob and pushed the door open. When we stepped inside, I found myself in a cozy room with soft-colored paint on the walls and dark carpet. A sofa was positioned against the far wall and a generic painting hung above it. There were two chairs across from the sofa. One of the chairs was situated to the left and one to the right, and they each faced the sofa. A window with the blinds drawn was situated along the wall on the right. Other than the glow seeping in from the edges of the blinds, a dull lamp on the left side of the room was the only light source.

  Alice was sitting on the sofa next to a red-headed woman whom I presumed was her mother. Alice looked much different than the girl I’d seen in the outhouse tank last night. Her long hair was damp from a recent shower and—now that the clumps of human waste had been washed away—I could see that it was blonde. Her ivory-colored face, which had been covered in brown smudges last night, was now bright and clean. There were faint red marks streaked down her arms that had probably occurred from scrubbing the filth from her flesh, and I could see a pretty good bruise near one of her elbows.

  I smiled solemnly when our eyes met and nodded, but she didn’t react. Her blue eyes weren’t as bright as they were in the Facebook photo I’d seen earlier. They were dull and bloodshot. Her swollen face was void of expression and she slouched on the sofa. The sweat pants she wore were at least two sizes too big for her.

  The woman beside her had long red hair and the same ivory tone to her skin. Her flashy dress was so tight that it seemed to be smothering her breasts, which were trying to escape through the top. She had one arm around Alice and she held a tissue in her opposite hand. Her face was also swollen and her eyes were glassy from crying. I thought she looked familiar and began to wonder if I knew her. As Tessa began introducing us, it dawned on me—she looked like Peggy Bundy from the sitcom Married With Children, but without the bangs.

  I shook Wanda Pierce’s hand first and then extended my hand to Alice. She didn’t even reach for it. Instead, she lowered her head and stared straight ahead, her eyes boring a hole into the front of my shirt. I frowned and nodded, retracting my hand and taking the chair that was directly across from Wanda. Tessa sat beside Alice, and Amy took the chair directly across from the young girl.

  “Hey, Alice, it’s nice to meet you. Like Tessa said, my name is Amy Cooke and this is my boss, Clint Wolf.” Amy’s voice was soft. “We’re detectives over in Mechant Loup and we’ll be working your case.”

  Amy paused and waited for a reaction from Alice. There was none.

  “We need your help in finding out exactly what took place out there, so I was hoping you could tell us what happened at the camp ground.”

  “Where’s my dad?” Alice asked, her bottom lip quivering. “Is it true what they told me?”

  Wanda took in a quivering breath and dabbed at her eyes with the tissue.

  “I’m afraid so,” Amy said, frowning deeply as she spoke.

  If Alice’s shoulders could have dipped even lower, they might have, but she was at the end of her rope of despair. She continued staring straight ahead, numb to her surroundings.

  “Based on the evidence at the scene, it looks like you were able to escape,” Amy continued. “Can you tell me how that happened?”

  Alice, apparently having already cried herself dry, began speaking in a monotone voice. “I was trying to sleep. Dad gave me the tent and he slept in the hammock. Mom got it for him last Christmas and he never got to use it. I was trying to sleep and I just started hearing explosions. It sounded like firecrackers, but much louder. I…I was so scared that I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what was going on. The tent was moving. The logs outside the tent were breaking up and parts of them smashed into the sides of the tent. I heard things whistling over my head. It sounded like a war was happening.”

  “You mentioned the logs,” Amy said. “Why were they set up around the tent?”

  Alice blushed a little and a hint of a grin formed at the corners of her mouth before abruptly disappearing. “I was scared that an alligator would come and get me,” she explained. “My dad built a fortress around the tent with logs he got from the woods. He did it to make me feel safe. It…I think it saved my life.”

  After Alice had paused for a long moment and we’d all sat there quietly watching her, Amy finally asked, “What’d you do after hearing the explosions?”

  “I…um…I knew the things passing over my head were probably bullets, so I shouldn’t stand up. I knew I couldn’t go in the direction of the explosions.” She passed her tongue over dry lips. “My dad had put this knife in my backpack, so I used it to cut a hole in the bottom of the tent. That’s how I got out. I crawled under the tent and pushed my way through the logs on that side of the tent, and then I crawled on my belly until I reached this big tree. I used the tree for protection and ran as fast as I could. I fell a lot, but I managed to go in a big circle until I reached the bathroom and I went in there to hide.” She stopped to rub her nose. “My dad called it an outhouse—or something like that.”

  “Did you see anyone?” Amy asked. “Either at the campsite or when you reached the outhouse?”

  Alice shook her head from side to side. “At first, I was gonna hide under the car, but it was gone when I got there, so I went to the outhouse. I was just hiding in the building, but then I heard some noise outside and I got so scared that I jumped in the toilet.” She paused and fought back the urge to gag. “It was awful! I’ve never smelled anything so bad in all my life.”

  I shifted in my seat, my heart breaking for this young girl. She was displaying a rare level of strength for someone her age and who had gone through such an ordeal.

  “So, you didn’t see anyone at all?” Amy asked.

  “No, ma’am. I didn’t see a single person except my dad the whole time we were there.”

  “Were there any other cars in the parking lot when you first got there?”

  “There was one, but I don’t know what kind.”

  “Was it a car or truck?”

  “I think it was a car. I didn’t really look at it.”

  “Did you go back to use the bathroom at any point?”

  She nodded. “A couple of times.”

  “Did you see a car in the parking lot during any of these trips to the bathroom? Or did you see any people in the park?”

  “I didn’t really look in that direction,” she said, shaking her head. Suddenly, her eyes shot up and I noticed a spark in them. “I didn’t see a person, but my dad did talk to someone when I went to the bathroom. I could hear him from th
e outhouse.”

  Amy tilted forward ever so slightly. “Tell me about that.”

  “I mean, I just heard him talking to somebody while I was using the bathroom. When I was finished, I asked him if he was talking to somebody and he said there was a man standing near the car.”

  “Did he say anything at all about the man?” Amy pressed.

  Alice shook her head.

  “Did he tell you what the man looked like or what he was doing?”

  She shook her head again and then hesitated, her brow furrowing slightly. “Oh, he did say the man was leaving. And I think he asked my dad something about food.”

  “Food?”

  “Yeah, it sounded like he was hungry.”

  “Did your dad give him any food?”

  Another shake of the head. “He said he told the man we hadn’t cooked anything yet.”

  There was a far-away look in Alice’s eyes as she talked about her dad. I thought about my own daughter and it broke my heart. I had to look away for the remainder of the questioning. A deep and seething anger was beginning to form in the pit of my stomach, and the more it grew, the more I could feel my expression hardening.

  The man who had left this little girl fatherless and who had mercilessly gunned down Deputy Jenny Billiot would also murder any officer who stood in his way. Since this was my case, it was imperative that I find him before he had the opportunity to kill again. And when I found him, there would definitely be a showdown. This murderer was not going down without a fight—of this I was certain—and I’d need to start immediately devising a plan for when I encountered him.

  As Amy continued to question Alice, their voices faded into the background of my mind. At the forefront, Sheriff Turner’s words began to echo loudly—so loudly, in fact, that I began to wonder if Amy could hear his booming voice through my ears.