by BJ Bourg
He nodded and walked away. I had been sitting on the tailgate of Melvin’s truck and now stood achingly to my feet.
“You okay?” Amy asked, sauntering over from the tree where Gabe had met his fate. “You’re walking like an old man who just got out of bed.”
“I’m just a little stiff.” I turned my head to the left and right and then looked up and down. “I’ll probably be sore tomorrow, but I’ll be fine.”
“That was a hell of an impact. I was just climbing out of the damn bayou when I saw you hit the tree.” She shook her head. “It did not look pretty. I didn’t know if it was you or Gabe flying through the air.”
“It was him, not me.”
“Yeah,” she said with a smirk. “I figured that one out on my own.”
“He was our only hope.” I shook my head. “If we don’t find any evidence on his boat, we’re screwed.”
“Do you think it was him? Do you think he attacked Camille, Frank, and Chrissy?”
“He’s guilty of something—otherwise he wouldn’t have tried to kill you.” I slid off the tailgate when I saw Mallory Tuttle approaching. She was a detective with the Chateau Parish Sheriff’s Office, and I knew why she was there.
“Are y’all okay?” Mallory asked. She wore dark blue slacks, a purple silk blouse, and stylish ankle boots that clanked on the road when she walked.
Amy and I both nodded.
“We would be better if Gabe Burke would still be alive,” I said wryly. “We needed him to talk.”
“I hear you. Well, Mayor Cain called the sheriff and asked for an independent investigation, so here I am.” Mallory hefted a digital recorder in her hand. “Do you mind giving me a quick statement? I know you’re working a murder case and I don’t want to take up much of your time, so we can do it in my car real quick-like.”
“You can go first,” I said to Amy. “I need to check on something before Mallory begins recovering evidence.”
Amy and Mallory moved to Mallory’s red unmarked Dodge Charger to talk, and I headed for the pistol Gabe had dropped in the roadway when I’d plowed over him. A deputy from the sheriff’s office was standing over it and nodded when I approached. Without touching it, I pulled out my cell phone and took a picture of the serial number stamped into the slide. When I walked away, I called Lindsey.
“Oh, Clint, it’s so good to hear your voice!” Lindsey was speaking excitedly. “When the calls started coming in, people were saying a cop had drowned, someone had been shot, and someone had been run over—I didn’t know what the hell was going on.”
“Yeah, we’re fine.” I then provided her with the serial number for the pistol and asked her to run it through NCIC. “I need to know if it’s stolen.”
I could hear her fingers instantly begin to patter on the keyboard. After a brief pause—with Lindsey humming to herself as she worked—she clucked. “There’re a bunch of hits on this serial number. What’s the brand?”
“Glock.”
“Ah, here it is.” She hummed for a few moments more as she read. “Yep, it’s stolen from out of Alabama.”
“Can you get me the victim’s name and a contact number?” I asked, looking up to see Amy walking away from Mallory. “I need to speak with them as soon as possible.”
Lindsey promised she would get right on it and I headed for Mallory’s car.
“You’re up,” Amy said when she walked by me. “I’ll secure a search warrant while you give your statement.”
I thanked her and settled into the passenger’s seat of Mallory’s unit. It was nice and cool inside. I took my time with the interview, almost not wanting it to end. As I talked, I glanced around the interior of her car, hoping to find something to eat. I would’ve been satisfied with a French fry from the floor at that point, but I had no such luck.
CHAPTER 25
When I had finished giving my statement to Mallory and she had asked the questions she wanted to ask, she shut off the recorder and put it aside. She then asked about our case.
I gave her the abbreviated version and she listened, her brown eyes turning curious.
“I’ve never heard of someone killing in that fashion.” She tucked a tuft of brown hair behind her ear and furrowed her brow. “Do you think your killer’s the guy wrapped around that tree?”
“We received word he was stealing from boats out on Le Diable Lake by swimming up to them in scuba gear, so…” I shrugged, allowing her to come to her own conclusions. Right then, my cell phone began to ring. It was the office. I held up my phone. “I might have something.”
It was Lindsey. I put her on speaker phone. Mallory and I listened as she gave me the name and number of the victim.
“The police department faxed over the theft report,” she also explained. “It says the gun was stolen from Donald Shelby’s boat while it was parked in his front yard. He said he forgot to take it out of the boat the night before and someone took it from under the seat cushion.”
I nodded as I copied the information. We were definitely on to something. I called Shelton’s number, but he didn’t answer. I frowned and left a message.
“He didn’t answer, but we know the gun Gabe used was stolen from a boat in Alabama.” I stabbed the dashboard of Mallory’s cruiser with an index finger. “I’ll bet you anything that Shelton’s boat was in Le Diable when his gun was stolen. He just didn’t realize it until he was back home.”
We spoke for a few minutes more before exiting her cruiser and going our separate ways. Amy was leaning against the hood of Melvin’s truck working on her laptop. She looked up when I approached.
“The judge is reviewing the affidavit.” She indicated my rucksack, crime scene box, and two rifle cases. “I rescued your gear from the wrecked Tahoe. Susan’s driving your truck down here and she’ll ride back with Melvin.”
I thanked her and glanced down at my ringing phone. It was the number I’d just called. I quickly answered.
“Hey, is this Detective Clint Wolf?” an uncertain male voice asked.
“It is,” I said. “Thanks for returning my call, Mr. Shelton.”
“Did you really find my pistol?”
“Yes, sir, we did.”
“Where was it?” Before I could answer, he quickly said, “Please tell me it wasn’t used in a crime.”
I heard him groan on the other side of the phone when I hesitated.
“No one was hurt,” I said quickly. “He fired shots at someone, but missed.”
“Oh, man, that’s such a relief!” He sighed heavily. “Ever since it was stolen I’ve been dreading receiving a call from the authorities saying someone was killed with it.”
I couldn’t guarantee him that it hadn’t been used in an actual murder prior to today, but I decided not to mention that part.
“What were the circumstances surrounding the theft?” I asked.
“Well, my son had borrowed my truck and boat a few weeks ago and he had parked it in my yard after he was finished with it. When he took it out on the water, he took my pistol out of the glovebox of my truck and put it in the cargo area under the seat of the boat. He said he forgot to put it back in the truck when he parked it in the yard. Apparently, someone dug through the boat and stole it.” He sighed. “I’m always telling him to lock it in the truck when he’s done, but he never remembers.”
“When did you notice it missing?”
“Um, right when I called. It was the beginning of August.”
“And when had your son borrowed the boat?”
“That same weekend. He left with it on the last Friday in July and got home that Sunday afternoon.”
I was about to ask where his son had taken the boat, but he suddenly exclaimed.
“Hey! Where did you say you were calling from?”
“Mechant Loup. It’s in southeast Louisiana.”
“Is that near Grand Isle? Because he said he was going to Grand Isle that weekend.”
“We’re a couple of hours away. Is your son around? I need to ask him
where he went, because I’m sure your Glock was stolen here and not there.”
“Oh, that would make sense.” There was a pause and I could hear some footsteps. A door opened and slammed and then he explained he was walking to his son’s apartment. “He lives above the workshop on our property.”
I waited patiently as his footsteps trounced through what sounded like dried pine needles and then up wooden steps. Finally, he stopped walking and I heard a loud knock.
“Hey, Dad, what’s up?” said a tired voice.
“Aren’t you supposed to be packing for college? You leave tomorrow, Son.” There was a brief exchange, where the son began making excuses for sleeping in, and Shelton started lecturing him about self-motivation.
I wanted to ask Shelton to move the conversation along, but I didn’t want to be rude. I caught movement beside me and turned to see Amy pointing to her computer.
“We’re good to go,” she whispered. “He signed the warrant.”
I nodded and could wait no longer. “Mr. Shelton,” I said, interrupting his scolding. “May I talk to your son?”
“Um, sure.”
When the young man was on the phone, I apologized for disturbing his sleep.
“I was calling to find out about your trip to Grand Isle at the beginning of the month.” I paused, giving his tired brain time to catch up. “Did you go anywhere other than Grand Isle?”
“Yeah, I went to a party on this lake.”
“Which lake?”
“Um, I don’t really remember the name of it. It’s not far from Lake Berg, where we used to go fishing a lot.”
“Do you remember anything at all about the name of the lake?”
“It’s got a weird name. French or something.” His voice was hesitant, like he thought he was being accused of something. “I know someone said it means evil or Satan or something like that.”
“Would you know it if you heard it?”
“Yeah.”
“Le Diable—The Devil?”
“Yeah! That’s it.”
“After leaving the lake, did you ever look under the seat in the boat to see if the gun was still there?”
“Um…what’s this about?”
“We recovered your dad’s stolen gun. We need to find out how it got to Mechant Loup.”
“Oh, that…” There was obvious relief in his voice. “No, sir, I never looked under the seat after I put it there. We were partying and I never touch a gun when I’m drinking.”
“Do you drive your boat while you’re drunk?” I asked pointedly.
“No, sir. My dad would kill me. We slept on the lake that night. Well, we were actually there two nights—Friday and Saturday. We ended up not even going to Grand Isle.”
I nodded and was about to end the call when I thought of something else. “How’d you find out about a party on Le Diable Lake?”
“One of my friends told me about it. She said there’s a party on the lake every weekend during the summer. She said it gets crazy. She described it as Bourbon Street in the swamps.”
I scowled. That’s the last thing I wanted for our peaceful swamps, but I kept my thoughts to myself. “Did you notice anything strange while you were here?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know—anything moving around in the water that might’ve seemed strange. Did anyone notice anything missing from their boats? Did anyone get attacked while in the water? Anything at all that might’ve been out of the ordinary.”
“So it’s true.” His voice seemed strained.
“What?”
“That there’s a monster in the water around that lake.”
“Don’t go believing everything you hear on the news,” I cautioned. “They don’t always get it right.”
“Oh, it’s not just the news. One of my friends saw the monster for himself. We just didn’t believe him.”
I stood straighter. “What’d you say?”
“One of my friends—he saw the monster while we were there. No one believed him because he was drunk off his ass at the time, but I guess he was right.”
“Can you describe what he saw?”
“He said he walked to the lake to pee and was just standing there looking around when he saw it. He said he looked toward one of the boats and saw something leaning over the side. He walked closer and hollered at it. The music was loud, so the monster didn’t hear him at first. He hollered for someone to go help him, and that’s when the monster looked at him. He said it got scared and disappeared into the water. He came to get us and we searched the water, but we didn’t find anything. I figured he was just drunk and hallucinating. He was mad that we didn’t believe him.”
“Did he describe this so-called monster?”
“He said it had big eyes that were shaped like a dragonfly. He said there were these pipes or tubes coming out of the face.” He paused for a second. “He said there was a hump on his back, but he wasn’t positive about that part. He thinks he saw a hump when the monster turned to disappear.”
I asked for his friend’s name and number. As soon as I had it, I ended the call with him and punched in the number. When the kid answered, I skipped the pleasantries and went right into asking him to describe this monster he supposedly saw. It was identical to the description provided by Shelton’s son.
“Is it possible that this monster you saw could’ve simply been a man wearing scuba gear?”
There was a long pause on the other end. Finally, the kid grunted. “You know what, I think it could’ve been. That would explain the hump on his back and the pipes coming from his face.”
“Correct,” was all I said. I ended the call and turned to Amy. “Gabe Burke was absolutely stealing things from tourists.”
“Do you think he was also attacking them?”
“I’m not sure, but he certainly moved up to the number one suspect.”
“Well,” she said, pointing toward the coroner’s investigators who were loading his body into their van, “if he is the suspect, this case is as closed as that body bag.”
CHAPTER 26
When Susan arrived at the scene, she parked my truck on the shoulder of the road in front of Gabe’s boat and stepped out with bags of hamburgers, fries, and milkshakes. Melvin backed his truck close to mine and we dropped the tailgates of both trucks. Amy and Melvin sat on his tailgate to eat, while Susan and I sat on mine.
By the time the four of us finished eating, the road had been cleared and the first responders had left. That left only Mallory and Detective Lou Baker to wrap up the crime scene investigation. They walked over and joined us after they tore up the last of the yellow tape. Mallory handed Amy a small plastic evidence bag.
“I found this cell phone on the shoulder of the road,” Mallory told Amy. “I haven’t touched it because it has nothing to do with him attempting to murder you. I figured you might need it for your investigation.”
Amy nodded and peered through the clear plastic. “Does it still work?”
“It doesn’t look damaged.”
I left them to discuss the phone and retrieved my gear from Melvin’s truck. It took me two trips to transfer everything to my own truck. I was placing the last of my gear into the back seat when Lou left the others and ambled over to where I stood working. He wiped a bead of sweat from his dark forehead and sighed.
“Damn, it’s hot,” he said idly.
I nodded and shoved the door closed. I’d worked with Lou before and knew him to be a good detective. It seemed like he had something on his mind. “What’s up?”
“Hey, is Takecia single?”
I pondered the question, then glanced over my shoulder toward the others. “Hey, Sue, is Takecia single?”
“Yep,” she called.
The sound of her voice had barely faded on the breeze when Mallory began hollering at Lou.
“Louis Baker, I’d better not find out that you’re attempting to step out on Louise! That woman gave you four beautiful daughters! I swear, I’ll gut you mys
elf if you mess around on her!”
Lou threw his hands in the air. “No, no,” he said quickly. “I’m asking for my brother!”
“Jeremiah?”
“Yeah, she stopped him for speeding the other night and let him go when he told her he was my brother,” Lou explained hurriedly. “He wanted her number.”
Mallory stomped over and glared up at Lou, her nose inches from his. After staring into his eyes for a few moments, she relaxed. “He’s telling the truth. His left eye twitches like it’s being electrocuted when he’s lying.”
We all laughed and Susan said, “Send me your brother’s number. I’ll give it to Takecia. If she’s interested, she’ll call him.”
Lou gave her the number and then he and Mallory left.
“She said it’s open and shut,” Susan said of the deadly force encounter. “The evidence supports a justifiable homicide. She said her preliminary report will be on the sheriff’s desk this afternoon. She’s on her way to notify Gabe’s family.”
I nodded and shot a thumb toward the boat. “Amy, you ready to toss this thing?”
She nodded and headed for the boat. Melvin and Susan said they would hang around in case Gabe’s family showed up in arms.
“I can’t image they’ll take the news well,” Susan said. “And his dad’s certainly a hothead.”
“You know his dad?” I asked.
“Remember the man who was talking at the town council meeting Monday night—Phillip Burke?”
I nodded.
“That’s him.”
My shoulders drooped. Although he had been vocal at the meeting, he seemed like a good man and he had worked hard in our search for Camille. I instantly felt sorry for him and felt bad about running his son down. However, while I felt bad about what had happened, I knew it had been a necessary action in order to save Amy’s life, so I was at peace with it.
“He seems like a good man.”
Susan frowned. “He is a good man, but Gabe has been in and out of trouble for years. When his mother died, he moved out of the family home because he thought his dad was too strict. As I understand it, they don’t have a great relationship.”
