by BJ Bourg
“We need to identify that caller,” I said. “Gabe might’ve been in cahoots with that person.”
“I already know who it belongs to. It’s for the devil from devil’s lake. It’s just a hunch, but I think it’s a pretty good one.” Amy continued searching through the phone. There were a couple of pictures in the media section, most of them nature scenes. In the notes section, he had jotted down a grocery list and written several poems, none of which made any sense. One of the poems was Biblical in nature and mentioned King Saul several times.
“Do you think the poem about the Bible means anything?” Amy asked.
“I doubt he was well-versed in the Scriptures. His dad did say he was suffering from some mental problems, so maybe it’s just the ramblings of a disturbed man.”
“I mean, we’ve got mentions of the Bible, people are being killed in a lake named after the devil, and the devil’s calling Gabe from hell. This all seems a bit spooky.”
“I’m sure there’s a perfectly good explanation for all of it.”
Amy continued working. She searched every digital corner of the phone, but didn’t find any obvious connection between Gabe and the murders. Afterward, she accessed our law enforcement database and researched the three numbers that had communicated with Gabe’s phone. The 0666 number was not on file, but the other two were registered to local girls. I called one while Amy called the other. They each acknowledged speaking with Gabe several times on the phone after meeting him in a bar, but neither could handle his incoherent ramblings. They each said he had been nice, but they worried something was wrong with him.
“Want me to see if the sheriff’s office can do a forensic dump on the phone?” Amy asked. “Just in case I missed something or he deleted some files?”
“That sounds good.” I was pacing back and forth in the small room, wondering where to go from here. “I want to bring all the evidence from Gabe’s boat to the lab and I want to canvass the area along Old Blackbird Highway where the boats docked. He doesn’t have any immediate neighbors, but someone living along that stretch of highway might know something about him.”
“What kind of info are you looking for?” Her brow was furrowed. “It’s not like they would’ve witnessed him commit the murders.”
“I’d like to know if he’s got any friends or associates. If he does have any drinking buddies or drug buddies, I want to talk to them. If he’s got a girlfriend, I want to talk to her. He might’ve bragged to someone about what he did, and that would help a lot.”
“I don’t mind taking the evidence to La Mort,” Amy offered. “It’ll give me a chance to catch up on some good city food.”
“That’s fine with me.” I watched as she returned the phone to the locker. When she was done, we walked to the dispatcher’s station together, where Lindsey was gathering up her things to leave for the day.
“Oh, Clint,” she said, glancing over her shoulder, “call Mayor Cain. She called for you about five minutes ago.”
Amy smiled and waved as she headed for the door. “Tell her it wasn’t me.”
CHAPTER 30
I walked to my office to make the call. The mayor answered immediately.
“Clint, please tell me you’ve put a lid on this case.” She sounded tired. “My phone has been ringing off the hook. This reporter is claiming I’m contemplating shutting down the town. Someone’s telling her there’s some kind of monster lurking in the waters of our area. Can you believe that?”
“Are you thinking of shutting down the town?”
“No! Someone lied to her. She said she’s got a source close to the investigation.”
“Who could that be?” I was mildly curious, but my main focus was elsewhere.
“I don’t have a clue. But now the whole town is blaming me for the slowdown in business. I’ve got restaurant owners calling to complain that their dining halls are down to fifty percent capacity, our local renters are saying they’ve received more cancellations than they do when a hurricane is barreling down on the town, and our tourism center has been bombarded with phone calls and email messages from tourists wanting to know if it’s true that the town is shut down. And thanks to this bullshit about a monster, I’ve even got locals saying they’re never letting their kids go back out on the lakes again.” She paused to take a deep breath and blow it out. “The people are afraid. Please tell me you’ve got some answers.”
“Well, we’ve recovered some evidence suggesting that Gabe Burke might’ve committed the murders, but we’re not positive it was him.”
“Wait—Gabe Burke did it?”
“We’re not sure just yet, but the evidence is pointing in that direction.”
“Would it be accurate to say you have enough evidence to suggest he probably did it?”
“I guess you could say that.”
“So, if we held a press conference tomorrow morning, would you be able to make that statement and help to alleviate the fear surrounding these killings? I need to set the record straight about these lies that are being told. It would be nice to announce an end to the case at the same time—to let people know it was over and everything can go back to normal.”
I was quiet for a long moment. I liked Mayor Cain. She was always looking out for the best interest of the town and its citizenry. At the same time, she was very supportive of our officers and she spared no expense when it came to funding the department. For that reason, I was tempted to be agreeable. After all, it might very well turn out that Gabe was the killer. But what if it wasn’t—?
“Clint, are you still there?”
I shook the thoughts from my head. “I am.”
“Well, will you stand with me tomorrow morning and help to ease the public’s fears? We can’t go on like this for long. We were finally starting to gain momentum. More and more people were learning about Mechant Loup. If they lose interest—even for a week—it’ll ruin us. People will search for alternatives. They’ll find other vacation spots and forget about us. This could kill the town’s economy. I need you to help stop the panic.”
“Look, while we might be right, we might also be wrong,” I explained slowly. “I wouldn’t want to paint a false picture that everything’s safe on the lake when we’re not sure. What if we’re wrong and someone else dies?”
Pauline sighed. “How long do you think it’ll take for you to be sure?”
“We’re sending the evidence to the lab first thing in the morning. It could be a week or two before any DNA results are in.”
“How will DNA help?”
“If the lab can recover DNA from Gabe’s gloves or equipment and match it to one or more of our victims, then we can safely say he was the culprit,” I explained. “Absent DNA or an incriminating statement by Gabe to a witness, I don’t know how we ever say for sure he was the one.”
“We can’t wait a week.” I could hear the heels of Pauline’s shoes smacking the wooden floors in her office as she paced back and forth. Even her walk sounded frustrated. “Our summer season ends at the end of August, and the last two weeks are usually our best. We can’t wait for DNA, Clint. We’ve got to do something now.”
“Okay. I’ll figure something out.”
“I know you will.” She sounded confident. “You’ve never let me down yet.”
“Jeez, no pressure, eh?”
“Oh, and I want you to find out who leaked those lies to the media.”
“How do we do that?”
“I don’t know, but I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”
I hadn’t been able to watch the news for a few days, so I didn’t know exactly what she was talking about. Even if I had seen it, my feelings would be the same as they were now—I was more focused on catching a killer. I didn’t have time to find a leaker.
“Have a good night, ma’am,” I said and ended the call.
When I stepped outside onto the sidewalk in front of the police department, I froze and looked up and down the street. Something didn’t seem right. Shoving my keys back
in my pocket, I strode up Washington Avenue. I hardly recognized the place. At this hour, the bars and restaurants along that strip should’ve been bustling with people, but the streets were quiet. I walked for two blocks and stepped into Bad Loup Burgers. All of the tables were empty except for one man sitting alone in the corner of the room.
The hostess walked up and asked if I would like a table. I recognized her from the many times I’d eaten there.
“Nah, I was just checking to see how business is going.”
She frowned and a dimple pushed its way into her cheek. “It’s been dead since news began to spread about that creature in the swamps.”
“You believe there’s a creature out there?” I studied her face while waiting for an answer.
“I was raised out here. There’s nothing but alligators and fish in those waters.” She smirked. “The only creatures they have out there are the human kind. Most animals have a code that they live by and you can get along with them as long as you understand and respect that code. Some humans have no code and no morals. I’d take my chances with an alligator any day.”
CHAPTER 31
Mayor Cain’s words weighed heavy on me that evening as I spent time with Grace and my dogs. While Susan worked out in the gym for an hour, Grace and I took Achilles and Coco for a walk toward the back of the property. I veered left when we reached the shell driveway that led to the battered women’s shelter, where Roger and Odelia were staying while Camille was in the hospital. Camille was recovering nicely, but the infection had been severe and the doctors weren’t ready to release her just yet.
Something rustled in the sugarcane fields behind me. Residual angst over recent events that had taken place at this very spot still haunted me, and I whirled around, my hand sliding toward my beltline. My Beretta 92FS 9mm pistol was my weapon of choice when I was on duty, but I usually carried a Springfield 1911 .45 caliber handgun when I was off duty. The latter was a slimmer pistol and it fit nicely into the waistband of my jeans.
The cane was tall and I couldn’t see anything. Achilles and Coco immediately bounded into the fields, barking playfully as they pursued what must’ve been a small animal. Had it been a threat, there would’ve been much more bass in their barks.
“Detective Wolf!”
I turned toward the shelter in time to see Roger standing up from where he had been sitting on the steps of the large building. I approached him and he smiled when he saw my red-headed bundle of joy trying to keep pace beside me.
“And who is this little angel?”
“This is Gracie.” I glanced down. “Say hello to this nice man.”
“Hello to this nice man,” she said, swinging her arms wildly in the air and twirling around and around. “I getting dizzy, Daddy!”
The walk back here had been nice. I had managed to clear my head and put the case out of my mind for a few minutes, but running into Roger brought it right back to the forefront.
“I saw the news earlier,” he said with a frown. “They said you had to run over a man for shooting at your partner.”
I nodded, but didn’t say anything.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“It comes with the territory,” was all I said in response. We both stood in silence for a long moment and watched Grace stumble around the front yard like she was drunk.
Finally, Roger asked if I thought Gabe Burke was the man who attacked Camille.
“At this point, he’s only a suspect. We’ll hopefully know more after the lab processes our evidence.”
More silence.
“They showed his picture on the television,” Roger said.
“Whose picture?”
“That Gabe Burke fellow. Camille doesn’t think it’s him.”
I shot him a look. “What? I thought she didn’t see the suspect.”
“She didn’t, but she said he was too small to drag her through the water as easily as he did. She said it had to be a larger man.”
I groaned inwardly. That was not what I wanted to hear right now. Thoughts began to swarm, overwhelming my senses. I wanted to grab Grace, hurry home, and rush back to work. I needed to be doing something to move this case along. If it wasn’t Gabe, then I needed to find the real person responsible. I couldn’t rest if the killer was still out there.
“I can’t tell you enough how much I appreciate what you and your people have done for my family,” Roger said, disrupting my thoughts. “My daughter is alive today because of you guys.”
I waved off his comment, still trying to come to grips with Camille’s revelation. “We were just doing our job.”
“Well, you don’t get paid enough for doing that job.”
“We don’t do it for the pay.” I turned and looked him in the eyes. “Finding Camille alive and watching her recover in the hospital is worth more than all the gold in California. That’s why we do it.”
His eyes were glistening. “I thought my little girl had finally run out of lives. It was the worst feeling ever. I felt like I was having open heart surgery while being wide awake.”
“I know the feeling.”
He cocked his head to the side, his curiosity fully aroused. “You do?”
I nodded, but didn’t elaborate.
“Let’s go home, Gracie,” I said. “We need to feed Mommy.”
Roger thanked me again and we parted ways. I held Grace’s tiny hand as we left the driveway. I paused near the edge of the field. I could hear cane stalks crackling as the dogs continued pursuing their quarry.
Grace made a sound and I glanced down at her. Her face was beaming. At that very moment, I decided to put my job on the back burner for one night and focus on the present, to enjoy my time with my daughter. I had made a promise a long time ago to never be so consumed by my job that I neglected my family. It was certainly a challenge because I loved my job immensely, but I was determined to give her the attention she deserved.
“You think they’ll catch it?” I asked.
Her eyes grew wide and, in broken English, she asked, “Is it a bad guy, Daddy?”
“Nah, it’s probably a rabbit.”
She sucked in her breath and a concerned look fell over her face. “A rabbit? No!”
“It’ll be fine.” Pressing two fingers to my bottom lip, I let out a piercing whistle and paused, listening. Achilles and Coco either didn’t hear it or they ignored it, because they continued crashing through the cane without wavering. They were heading east toward the front of the street, so I took Grace’s hand and began walking home. We hadn’t gone a hundred yards when a rabbit leapt from the cane to our left and darted across the road.
Grace shrieked. “Run, rabbit! Run!”
About ten seconds later, our dogs broke through and continued the chase. Grace scolded them in as mean a voice as she could muster, trying to persuade them to leave the rabbit alone. Much to her chagrin, they didn’t listen.
I just shook my head and kept walking, laughing at the expression on Grace’s face.
“No, Daddy!” she said. “It’s not funny!”
“It’s okay, Pumpkin Seed, they won’t catch the rabbit.
“But Coco’s gone!”
“She’ll come back when she’s tired or hungry, and so will Achilles. They always do.”
That seemed to satisfy her and she rushed forward when we drew closer to the house. She was running full steam ahead when the toe of her shoe stuck in the ground and she spilled forward. She landed on her face, both hands spread out in front of her. She lay shocked for a second and then started to cry. I told her not to.
“Dust yourself off and keep going,” I said in a caring but firm voice. “You’re fine.”
She looked up as I squatted beside her. One crocodile tear had formed at the corner of her left eye. It broke free and rolled down her cheek. I took each of her little hands and brushed them off.
“Never stay down. Always get right back up and keep going.” I pointed toward the house. “The last one to the house has to clean up dog
poop.”
Forgetting about her spill, she scrambled to her feet and took off at a stumbling run. My heart swelled with pride as I watched her go. I had noticed grass stains and a little scratch on her knees and knew it must’ve smarted, but she ignored them and charged ahead.
When we would reach the house, I would clean up her scrapes, they would heal, and she would forget about this little fall. But one day, when it mattered most, she would dust herself off, get right back up, and charge forward. Not because it came naturally, but because it had been engrained within her—and because I hadn’t been so consumed with my job that I’d failed to recognize those special moments, however small.
CHAPTER 32
It was about eleven when Susan and I finally got to bed. Achilles and Coco had returned home empty-handed earlier, and that had thrilled Grace. I had doctored up the scrapes on her knees and palm and then we’d all sat down to dinner. I’d refrained from saying anything to Susan about Camille’s thoughts on Gabe Burke while we ate, and I’d forgotten to tell her about it when we were getting dressed for bed.
“Sue, are you sleeping?” I asked now, as I lay wide awake, wondering at the identity of our suspect. Her breathing was slow and steady. She was sound asleep.
I tossed and turned, trying to fall asleep myself. It felt as though I was awake all night, but I must’ve fallen asleep at some point, because I suddenly found myself driving my Tahoe.
I was perplexed. I thought I’d remembered crashing my Tahoe, yet here I was, driving south on Old Blackbird Highway in my SUV. It was dark and I was having a hard time seeing. I reached for the knob to turn on my headlights, but it wasn’t there.
A cloud of fog had suddenly rolled in from the water and I couldn’t see five feet in front of me. I leaned forward, squinting. Suddenly, the fog dissipated and my lights came on, revealing Gabe Burke standing in the roadway directly in front of my vehicle. He was crying and cradling something in his hands.
