But Not For Fear

by BJ Bourg

  The message ended and I climbed into the pilot’s seat. I had been content to let Amy drive, but I now wanted some wind in my hair. After Amy was seated and had her earmuffs on, I fired up the engine and blasted away from the wharf. With my left palm resting on the rudder stick, I settled in to enjoy the ride through the darkness.

  I hadn’t put on my earmuffs, because I wanted the full force of the engine roaring right up against my eardrums. I was hoping the noise and wind would help to clear my mind. However, I did put on some goggles so I wouldn’t trap bugs in my eyes.

  As I drove, I tried to think of anything but the case. I certainly didn’t want to dwell on the story Roger had told me. It would make it that much harder to notify him when we found Camille’s body, and it would also make it that much harder to recover the body. Camille had come alive to me through Roger’s story, and I hated him for telling it.

  Before heading back to Le Diable Lake, an idea occurred to me and I veered into Lake Berg. The young man we’d located hadn’t walked on water, so there had to be an abandoned vessel out there somewhere. I decided to ride the perimeter of the lake to find it.

  The bow of the vessel rocked up and down as we cut across the choppy waters of Lake Berg. I gave Amy some hand signals to let her know my intention. She nodded and grabbed a spotlight and began scanning the shoreline to our right. Thus far, the boat ride had done nothing to clear my mind, but the discovery we were about to make would offer a momentary distraction.

  We had been touring the perimeter for about twenty minutes when we saw a blue kayak floating aimlessly near the eastern bank of the lake. I steered the airboat in that direction and slowed down. The waves from our boat made the kayak rock violently. My heart suddenly lurched in my chest when Amy’s spotlight covered the length of the kayak and I took it all in.

  There were two fishing poles stabbed into the pole holders. A tackle box was secured to the deck with bungee cords. A floating fish basket trailed behind the kayak, attached by a short length of rope, and a life vest was secured by a carabiner. None of those things were remarkable. What got my attention was the fact that it was a tandem kayak, and that meant there was another missing person out there.

  I shut off the engine and dropped down from the pilot’s seat. Ripping the goggles from my face, I pointed and said, “He wasn’t alone!”

  Amy turned the spotlight toward the shore, panning from left to right. “You think someone’s out there?”

  I nodded. I grabbed a push pole and used it to slide the kayak closer. Once it was within reach, I snatched the grab handle and pulled it into the airboat and rested it across the gunwales. I then popped the top on the hatch. I gave a triumphant yell when I saw a wallet inside, but then grunted when I noticed a small purse. It was true—there was another victim out here, and it was a female.

  “What is it?” Amy asked, turning from the shore.

  I dug through the wallet, and found the driver’s license. I held it up so the light from the boat could illuminate it.

  “Our male victim is Frank Jones,” I announced. “He’s from Biloxi, Mississippi.”

  “Does the picture look like the guy y’all pulled out of the lake?”

  I nodded as I dug through the little purse. I located another driver’s license. Holding it up, I read the name aloud. “Nelly Martinez. She’s from Pass Christian, Mississippi.”

  I dropped the wallet and purse back into the hatch and returned the kayak to the water. I had just tied it to the stern of the airboat when I heard Amy say something.

  “What’s that?” I asked, straightening and turning to face her. She had moved to the port side—away from the shore—and was scanning the waters.

  She gave me a puzzled look. “I didn’t say anything.”

  I cocked my head and turned my ear to the air. Amy pushed away from the side of the boat and moved toward me. When she stopped moving, I thought I heard a muffled voice calling from somewhere in the distance.

  “Is that a human voice?” I asked.

  Amy closed her eyes and listened intently. I listened, too, and heard the sound of water lapping gently against the sides of the boat. An alligator grunted from somewhere across the lake. A bird squawked on the wing. Dozens of frogs sang a chorus from the nearby shore. I was about to dismiss the voice as one of the natural sounds of the swamp when it happened again.

  Amy’s eyelids shot open and she pointed toward the north. “There! It came from that direction! It’s a woman’s voice.”

  Relief gushed through me as I fired up the engine and pushed the airboat in that direction. After traveling a few dozen yards, I shut off the engine and allowed the boat to drift. We listened intently and, sure enough, the voice called out again, this time closer.

  Amy scanned the shore with the floodlight while I flipped on the police lights.

  “Nelly!” I called over the bullhorn. “We’re with the Mechant Loup Police Department. Make your way to the edge of the water and wave so we can see you.”

  We waited with bated breath. After several minutes, we saw movement from the trees and a young woman stepped into the light. She wore a life vest over a bikini top and had on swimming shorts for a bottom. Her legs, face, and arms looked like a boiled crawfish, thanks to her exposure from the unrelenting summer sun. Even from that distance I could see that she was trembling with fear. Although she looked haggard, she was alive, and that was something to celebrate.

  CHAPTER 13

  “Oh, thank God!” Nelly said in her Mississippi accent as she clutched onto Amy, who was trying to help the young woman into the boat.

  “It’s okay,” Amy said, pausing to let Nelly get it out of her system. “You’re safe now.”

  The trembling throughout her body showed no signs of subsiding, but Nelly eventually let go of Amy’s neck long enough for Amy to help her into the boat. I had grabbed a blanket from one of the dry boxes and handed it to Nelly. Although it was warm out, she took it gratefully and wrapped it around her body. Next, I handed her a bottle of water.

  She pulled the bottle to her parched lips and was about to suck it all down when I grabbed her hand.

  “Slowly,” I said. “Take small sips at first. Give your body time to adjust.”

  She nodded and took a single swallow. I glanced away for a second and then heard her gasp for air. When I looked back at her, I saw that she’d downed the entire body in the second gulp.

  “More,” she said breathlessly.

  I gave her another, but warned her to drink it slower this time. She did take her time, but the water didn’t last long.

  “I ran out of water yesterday,” she said when she’d finished the second bottle. I was struck by how much she sounded like that blonde woman from the home improvement television show that was filmed in Mississippi.

  “How long have you been out here?” I asked, noting her gaunt features and the dried mud caked to her strawberry blonde hair.

  “Um, we got to the camp on Friday, around three o’clock,” she said slowly. “Frank wanted to go fishing right away, so we took the kayak out. That was Friday evening. So…um, I think…”

  Nelly’s voice trailed off and she began using her fingers to try and calculate the days. She looked up, confused. “What day is it?”

  “It’s Tuesday night,” I said softly, “around eleven o’clock.”

  “Oh, my God, I’ve been out here for four days?” The thought seemed to horrify her.

  “You must be hungry,” Amy said, handing her an extra plate of food she’d prepared for later. “We’ve got more water and Coke. Which would you prefer?”

  “I’d die for a Coke right now!” Nelly took the plate of white beans and shrimp and began eating. She scooped up the rice and beans and shoveled it right into her mouth. I don’t know if she even chewed before swallowing. She put the plate aside when Amy approached with the Coke and cradled it in both hands like a prized possession. She drank deeply of the soda and her eyes smarted when the carbonated beverage hit her throat. She t
ook a breath after swallowing and then licked white beans from her dirty fingers. Afterward, she began using the fork Amy had provided to work her way through the rest of the food.

  I watched until she had scraped the plate clean.

  “When were you due back home?” I finally asked.

  “Next Sunday.”

  I now realized why we hadn’t received a missing person report on Frank.

  Nelly suddenly burped loudly and threw a hand to her mouth. “I’m so sorry!”

  Amy and I laughed, but she didn’t. Her face was somber and she glanced from Amy to me, searching our eyes.

  “Did you find Frank?” Her eyes swelled with tears. “Is he okay?”

  “Um, we found a young man,” I began slowly. “We think it’s Frank.”

  “You did? Oh, thank God!” She was excited at first, but then grew cautious. Her hollow eyes searched mine. “Wait—what’s going on? Why did you say you think it’s him? Wouldn’t he tell you it’s him? Why did you say that? Where’s my husband?”

  “I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

  Her hand relaxed and the fork fell from it. “No!”

  “I’m afraid he’s gone.”

  She threw both hands to her face and began weeping hysterically. The blanket fell from her shoulders. “No! No! No!”

  Amy put a hand on her shoulder, but we waited quietly until her sobs had subsided somewhat.

  “What happened to him?” she asked in a whisper. “What did it?”

  “According to the coroner, he drowned,” I said, curious about how her question had been formulated.

  “Drowned?” She lifted her head and stared at me, her eyes filled with horror. “He didn’t drown. He was attacked.”

  I scowled. “Attacked?”

  “I believe something grabbed him and pulled him into the water.” She licked her dry and cracked lips. One of the cracks had started to bleed. “We were paddling not far from here and I was sitting in the front. He was talking to me. He was saying we were going to fry our own fish and maybe try to catch some crabs. This was our honeymoon, you know.”

  “No, I wasn’t aware.”

  She nodded and continued. “We had gone online and rented this camp with crab cages. The website said we could use the cages to catch some crabs. Frank, he was just talking about that and saying how nice it was to finally be married. All of a sudden, I felt the kayak jerk and then I heard a loud splash. When I turned, he was being pulled into the water.”

  “Hold up,” I said, leaning closer. “What do you mean when you say he was being pulled into the water? Describe exactly what you saw.”

  “I saw his body being bent backwards off the back of the kayak,” she explained. “Something must’ve pulled him into the water, but it had to be strong, because Frank and I take kickboxing classes and he’s really tough.”

  “Did you see anything else?”

  She shook her head. “There was a loud splash when he went in and then that was it. I never saw him again.”

  “Could he have fallen?”

  She wiped her eyes and took some time to consider the question. Finally, she shook her head. “He was bent too far back—like, at an odd angle. Something definitely pulled him in.”

  I grunted, racking my brains to try and figure out what could’ve pulled him into the water.

  “Did you see what it was?” I asked.

  “No.” She shook her head. “I just saw him disappearing.”

  “Are you sure he didn’t fall off the kayak?”

  “Frank doesn’t just fall off of a kayak,” she said. “He’s done some of the roughest whitewater rapids in four states. He doesn’t just fall into the water.”

  I shot a thumb over my shoulder, indicating the kayak tied to the back of our boat. “Is that Frank’s life vest?”

  “Yeah. He doesn’t usually wear one.” She studied my eyes. “It had to be a big alligator or something that pulled him in. I felt it rock the kayak. In fact, the force of it knocked me overboard.”

  “You fell in?”

  “Yes, sir. As soon as I hit the water, I started swimming for my life. I was too afraid to go back toward the kayak, so I headed for the land. Thank God I had on my vest, or I would’ve drowned, too.”

  “When you got to the land, did you look for Frank?” I asked. “Did you look out at the water?”

  “Yeah, I turned and looked back.” She frowned deeply. “There was no sign of him. I knew if he would’ve been able to come to the surface, he would’ve done it, but I couldn’t help but think he had made it back to land—that he would come back and find me.”

  “What’d you do at that point?”

  “I saw bubbles in the water and it seemed like they were heading in my direction, so I turned and ran as fast as I could. It was hard. I was barefooted and there were a bunch of roots sticking up in the ground, but I didn’t care. I knew that whatever had gotten Frank might be coming for me, so I kept running. I thought there had to be some houses or more camps out there, but I ran for a long time and didn’t find anything.” She shivered involuntarily. “I was terrified. I didn’t want to go back toward the water. I didn’t know what to do. Finally, I found a hollowed out log and that’s where I slept. Well, I had to make sure there were no snakes inside first. I didn’t leave the log much at all. I was just too scared.”

  “You stayed there the entire time?”

  “Mostly. It rained one night, but I was dry in the log.” Nelly put her plate aside. “I heard boats riding by from time to time and I would run toward the lake, but they were always gone by the time I got there.”

  “You said you ran out of water yesterday,” I said, looking her up and down. “Where’d you get the water?”

  “I had a CamelBak on me when I fell into the water,” Nelly said. “Without it, I don’t know if I would’ve been able to survive. As it was, I was tempted to drink the water right out of the lake, but I was afraid the monster would come back and get me.”

  I groaned inwardly, but didn’t challenge her characterization of the incident. Amy, for her part, raised an eyebrow as though to say, “I told you the Letiche was alive and well in these waters.”

  “Where’s the CamelBak now?” I asked.

  “Back by the hollowed out log.”

  “Other than the CamelBak, is there anything else out there?”

  She shook her head. “No, sir, that’s it.”

  I was thoughtful. On the one hand, I wanted to get her to a hospital as soon as possible, but on the other hand, I needed to investigate her campsite. What if this monster had tried to track her through the swamps? There might be a trail—footprints, perhaps. If we could find a footprint, we would know what we were dealing with. If this was some kind of monster—

  I stopped and silently cursed myself. Of course this is no monster!

  “Amy, can you get on the radio and ask Susan to get an ambulance to the boat launch?” I asked. “I want to check for tracks before we leave the area.”

  Amy nodded and snatched up the handset.

  Nelly shuddered. “Tracks? Do you think it was coming for me?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I really don’t know.

  CHAPTER 14

  After checking out Nelly’s campsite and finding nothing but an empty CamelBak and her set of tracks leading to the water, I rejoined Amy and we headed for the boat launch. I drove the boat and pulled it directly into the slip, where an ambulance was waiting.

  Baylor Rice was at the launch and he grabbed the bow line and secured the boat in place. Amy and I were helping Nelly out of the boat when I heard a cry from somewhere behind the crowd of onlookers.

  “Camille!” called a man’s voice. “Camille, it’s Daddy!”

  “Oh, no!” My heart sank to my boots.

  “What is it?” Amy asked, steadying Nelly’s right side while I steadied her on the left.

  “It’s Roger Rainey,” I said, scanning the crowd in search of the man. “He thinks we found Camille.”


  “Who’s Camille?” Nelly wanted to know.

  “A girl who went missing on Monday.” I stopped walking when two medics reached us. I let Amy consult with them while I moved toward the voice. Roger was still shouting and drawing nearer. Finally, I saw him squeeze through several people and break out into the opening that Baylor previously had cleared out.

  “It’s okay,” I told Baylor when he gave me an inquisitive look. “You can let him through.”

  Roger craned his neck to see around me. “Where’s Camille?”

  “It’s not Camille,” I said softly, but he seemed not to be listening.

  He continued rushing forward and brushed past me. “Camille!”

  I almost reached for his arm, but decided to simply follow him to the ambulance. In his state of mind, he would have to see for himself that it wasn’t Camille.

  “Camille!” he hollered, ratcheting up his voice as he reached the ambulance. He walked toward the back door.

  Amy stepped aside and allowed him to peer into the back window.

  “Camille!” He jerked the door open and froze in place. An audible gasp ripped from his throat. He stumbled back and sat down hard on the ground. He buried his head in his hands. He began to cry. It had just become very real for him. It was at that moment he realized his daughter was never coming home again. She had finally fought her last fight and had met her match.

  I waved for the ambulance to leave and for Baylor and Amy to clear the crowd away. Among the onlookers were several cameramen and reporters employed by various news stations from New Orleans and La Mort. This was turning into a circus and, from here on out, everything that happened would be broadcast on live television.

  “Mr. Rainey, why don’t you come with me?” I asked. “We’ve got a room waiting for you and your wife. I think you’ll find it more comfortable than being out here, with everyone watching and wondering. You and your wife will have more privacy.”