Chapter Fourteen

Wednesday, October 2nd.

Moon Haven Motel. Calumet. Louisiana.

Mick drove around the town of Calumet, and we all wondered where Tammy might have stopped.

"I don't think she drove that big bruiser of a truck into town," said Virge. "I think she probably stopped on the highway to ask for directions or whatever she was looking for."

"You think she never left the highway, sweetheart?" asked Annie.

"Yeah, I do."

"We'll check that theory out after we eat breakfast."

Mick pulled up and stopped in front of a diner, and we went in for breakfast. Coffee was hot and the pancakes were extra good. Me and Virge both ate a double stack and used up all the syrup in the little pitcher.

When we were ready to go again, Annie said, "All we can do is head south and stop at every business on the highway we come to. Show them Tammy's picture and ask if they've seen her."

"Yep, we're up for that," said Virgie. "Me and Harlan have done lots of door-to-door."

"Mick," said Annie, "it will be a lot of stopping and starting for you, sugar. Do you want one of the boys to drive?"

"I can do it."

"Okay," said Annie. "Let's go find her."

We sailed down Route Ninety southbound and stopped at every business place on both sides of the road. Me and Virgie took turns running in and showing the people Tammy's picture.

At every place we got the same answer. They hadn't seen Tammy.

Bait Shop. South of Calumet.

Finally, I hit some luck when I ran inside a wooden shack with a bait sign on the roof. An old guy stood behind the counter making hand-tied flies and when I showed him Tammy's picture, he nodded his head.

"Uh huh. Seen her in here a couple of days ago. She told me she was looking for a guide and asked me if I knew one."

"Did you know one?"

"I told her Carl Levron was the best guide around, and she took one of his cards off the cork board over there." He pointed to a ripped piece of cork glued to the wall.

"Thanks." I looked at the board and read the names on the three cards pinned to the cork. None of them said Carl Levron.

"He doesn't have any cards here. Can you tell me where he lives?"

"Down the road apiece in a white house. If you put his name into the GPS, it might come up."

Just his name? I doubt it.

"Thanks for your help, sir."

I ran back to the truck thinking we had a bit of hope of finding my sister.

"You look happy," said Virge. "You must've found something out."

"Tammy was in that bait shop looking for a guide and the old guy told her about Carl Levron who's supposed to be the best guide around."

"Get directions?" asked Mick.

"Down the road in a white house, but if we put his name in the GPS it might come up."

"No, it won't," said Virge. "That ain't a fuckin phone book."

"I don't think it will come up," said Annie, "it's made for addresses. Let me check the police database and see if we can find him."

"You think he's a criminal, Mom?" asked Virge.

"No idea, sugar pop. I'm just checking on a chance, that's all." Annie fiddled with her phone and waited.

We all waited.

"Yep. Here he is. Punch this address in, Mick." Annie read him the address.

"What's on his sheet, Mom?" I asked.

"Kidnapping, sex trafficking, robbery and assault."

"Holy fuck, Mom. Is that the guy Tammy is with?" I got the shakes thinking about the danger she was in.

"Why ain't the fucker in prison?" asked Virge.

"Good lawyer," mumbled Mick.

Louisiana/Mississippi Line.

Bobby and Ray slept at a truck stop just over the Mississippi line. When they woke up and needed the bathroom, Ray managed to get Bobby out of the truck and into the building.

They both used the men's room, then Ray helped Bobby shuffle into the restaurant. Bobby slumped down in a booth, and they ordered breakfast.

"Feels so good to get out of the fuckin truck, Ray. I've been in there for days."

"Yeah, it could use an airing out. Maybe one of them air fresheners with the pine smell."

"Good idea," said Bobby.

The food came and Bobby couldn't eat much of his pancakes, eggs, and sausages, but he drank orange juice and two cups of coffee. Most food he'd had in a couple of weeks.

Ray had no trouble cleaning up his plate.

As they left the restaurant, Bobby pointed to the convenience store attached, "I could use smokes and a case of beer. Get whatever you want, Ray. Like a snack for later…whatever."

"We need gas too."

"Yep. Fill ‘er up and use the card on the dash. That's my truck card."

Bobby paid for the stuff in the store and Ray helped him get back to the truck and up the high step. Hard to get him back into the passenger seat without inflicting a lot of pain, but with a couple of loud groans, Bobby was in.

Ray pulled up to a vacant pump and filled the Freightliner with diesel.

He hopped into the driver's seat with a lot more energy than Bobby had. "You got money coming in while you're out of commission?"

"Nope. But I've got some saved. If we need money, we can haul a load north and pay our way. I'm not worried."

"Yep, I can see where that might be a good idea. This big mother eats up a helluva lot of gas."

Bobby laughed and held onto his gut. "True story."

Levron Residence. South of Calumet. Louisiana.

Mick parked the truck in Carl Levron's driveway. "His vehicle ain't here."

"Maybe he's with Tammy," said Virge.

"Let's find out." Mick and I went to the door because Mick wasn't letting Annie get near a creeper like Carl Levron. Made me feel like puking knowing Tammy was with him.

An older lady opened the door, and her eyes were red like she'd been crying a lot. "Can I help you?"

Mick held up his Ranger's badge and that was a surprise to me. I didn't know he was a fuckin cop. "Carl here, ma'am? We need to talk to him."

She shook her head and started to cry. "My Carl is dead. Pierre came around yesterday to tell me a crazy girl shot Carl and he died deep in the bayou, down near the Gulf."

"Where does Pierre live, ma'am?" I asked.

"He has a boat rental place a couple hours south of here. Bonaventure Boat Rentals."

"Thank you, ma'am. Sorry for your loss."

Mick and I walked back to the truck, and I was sure I was gonna puke.

"What, sweetheart?" asked Annie. "You look pale, like you might throw up."

"That creepy guide, Carl," I said, "Tammy shot and killed him. His mama is crying in that house right now."

"Maybe it was self-defense," said Virge. "Look at all the shit on his sheet, Harlan. What if the creeper tried to sell her, or if…?"

"Shut up, Virgie," I said. "This is such a goddamned mess I need time to think."

"Where did Tammy go with the guide?" asked Annie. "Did his mother mention a destination?"

"Yeah, she did," I opened the truck door ready to heave.

"Bonaventure Boat Rentals," said Mick. "Two hours south according to the mother."

"Punch it into the GPS and see where it is on the map, sugar." Annie twisted in her seat. "You okay, punkin?"

"Soon as I heave up my pancakes, I'm good."

Virge smiled and I wanted to throat punch him.

Sheriff's Office. Coyote Creek. Montana.

The office seemed pretty quiet without Tammy and the boys, and they were all feeling it. Even Max and Sarge acted different. They lay beside Molly's desk with their heads on their paws looking sad.

To cheer them all up a little, Billy told them about getting the tags in Wyatt Thompson's house and into the newspaper office on Main Street.

"Fantastic," said Travis. "We need something to break on this fucking case. It's about driving me nuts."

"You're not the only one," said Billy. "It's dragging on way too long to suit me."

"Ted, you're up," said Travis. "Get your ass up to Cut Bank. Park near Wyatt's office and find out who killed our three victims."

"What do I get if I solve the case on my own, boss?"

"Umm…let me see. You get a night out at the Dry Run with me and Billy, and a fifty-buck bonus out of my wallet."

"Okay, I'll go solve it."

"Thanks, Ted."

Molly giggled.

After Ted left for Cut Bank, Travis poured himself a coffee and sat in the break room. He called Annie for an update on the search.

"Hey, Travis."

"Any progress, Annie-girl?"

"Some, but I don't like where it's taking us."

"Why not?"

"I think Tammy has dug a hole for herself she can't get out of."

"I need my boys back. And if something terrible has happened to Tammy, I don't want them there when you find her."

"You sent them, and you can't have them back yet. We're in Southern Louisiana near the Gulf and they can't fly back to you from here."

"I never should've sent them."

"Call them, sugar. The search is depressing for all of us, and they both could use cheering up."

"Okay. I'll call them. Thanks, sweetheart. I love you. For always."

"Same."

Cut Bank Tribune. Montana.

Ted parked down the block from Wyatt Thompson's office and listened to him talking to customers about putting bigger ads in his newspaper and stuff like that.

For the first hour Ted sat on Main Street, Wyatt never said a damned thing about the murders. Ted lit up a smoke and thought about going across the street for a fresh coffee. Then Wyatt got a call that was a little more interesting.

"You have any problems? Are you sure nobody saw you?"

"Huh," said Ted to himself. "I wonder who Wyatt is talking to."

Mainliner Diner. Coyote Creek. Montana.

Travis and Billy ambled across the street to get a burger for lunch and as soon as they walked through the door, Maryanne smiled and pointed to an empty booth.

"I think I'll have something different today," said Billy. "I'm not eating any more grease."

Travis laughed. "When did you decide to eat healthy?"

"Right now, when I smelled the old grease hanging heavy on the air in here."

"I never noticed," said Travis. "Smells the same as it did yesterday." His cell rang and the grease talk ended. "Sheriff Frost."

Billy watched Travis's face change as he listened to the caller. Whatever the person was saying wasn't happy news.

"Yes, ma'am. I'll be there in fifteen minutes." Travis jumped up and headed for the door. He waved an arm at Billy to follow him.

Billy ran after him. "We're not eating?"

"Not right now. Paula Fleming's neighbor says she's dead."

"That can't be true," said Billy. "She was fine yesterday."

"She ain't fine now."

"Fuck that," said Billy.

"Fuck it double," hollered Travis as he jumped behind the wheel of the Bronco.

Fleming Residence. Valier.

The neighbor lady let them in amidst a round of barking and growling from Paula's two Rotties. "Go lay down, doggies."

She turned to Travis and said, "Paula is dead in her bed, Sheriff. I never touched anything. I've watched enough CSI shows to know what to do."

"Thanks for the call, Mrs. DeGrille. Sheriff Johnson will take your statement." He turned to Billy. "Why don't you use the kitchen?"

"Sure."

Travis walked into the bedroom alone and pulled the covers back to see Paula Fleming's dead body. She'd been strangled—death by asphyxiation—but before she was murdered and put into her bed, she'd been beaten pretty badly.

Beaten by the killer? Or by someone else? Why didn't the dogs do something? Was it someone the dogs knew?

None of it made any sense and Travis was becoming more baffled by the day. He called Doctor Olsen and walked outside to light up a smoke and wait for the coroner.

Mrs. DeGrille went back home after promising to feed the dogs, and Billy joined Travis outside after he'd had a look at Paula.

"Was she beat up already, or did the killer do that?" asked Billy.

Travis shrugged. "No telling. Call Ted and see if Wyatt is saying anything meaningful."

"Yeah, I'll find out."

Biloxi Medical Center. Mississippi.

Mile after highway mile, Bobby Prescott suffered excruciating pain. Ray watched Bobby fidget and twist and turn trying to get comfortable in the passenger seat of the rig and Bobby couldn't get settled.

Ray had a soft heart and he felt bad for Bobby—a guy who befriended him when he was at the bottom. Ray made it his business to find a clinic in Biloxi and take Bobby there. Even if they couldn't fix his wound, they could give him something for the pain.

He spotted the medical center and parked as close as he could to the front door knowing it would be hard to get Bobby into the building.

Ray helped Bobby out of the truck and into the waiting area inside. The nurse behind the front desk glanced at Bobby leaning heavily on Ray and pointed down the hall.

"In here, sir." She led the way into a treatment room. "Put the patient on the table."

"Yep, I'll handle it," said Ray. "I'll stay with him."

"I'll send the doctor in right away to look at you, sir."

The nurse was gone a couple of minutes, then she came back and took Bobby's vital signs and wrote everything down for the doctor.

Five minutes later a young doctor entered the treatment room. "I'm Doctor Michaels."

"Hey, Doc. Bobby Prescott, and this is my friend, Ray Robichau."

"First glance at your vital signs, Bobby, tells me your body is in a lot of distress. Can I take a look at the source of your pain?"

"Have at it, Doc. Gut shot, and I've been in two IC units since. My girlfriend went off the track and she kidnapped me out of both hospitals."

"That sounds like a series on Netflix, Bobby." The doctor cautiously pulled Bobby's jeans down and took a look at the mess of the wound.

"Uh huh. This wound is badly infected. I'm going to have my nurse clean it up and redress it and then I'm going to give you a shot to slow down the infection. "

"Thanks, Doc."

"I'll write you two prescriptions—one is for pain, as needed, and the other is for an antibiotic to kill the infection. Do not skip any doses of the antibiotic."

"I won't. I want my gut to heal."

"I'm sure you do."

When the clinic finished with Bobby, he paid cash out of his truck stash and Ray helped him back to the Freightliner.

"Which way we going from here, Bobby?"

"Let's get on up to Nashville and see if you can sell a song."

Ray laughed. "They would never buy one of my songs."

"Have you tried?"

"Nope."

"You're gonna try when we get there and we'll have us a time in Music City."

Ray grinned. "Can't believe I'm going to Nashville to sell a song."

Bonaventure Boat Rentals. Louisiana Bayou.

After driving for close to two hours, the GPS took us to the boat rental place Pierre Bonaventure owned and operated.

A wooden shack on the side of the river was where he did business. Two boats with shiny motors were tied to his dock.

Pierre was on the dock cleaning one of his boats when Annie, Mick, me and Virge bailed out of the truck and went to talk to him.

"Hey, Pierre," said Annie. "A couple of hours ago we were talking to Mrs. Levron up in Calumet. She said you drove up there to tell her Carl, her son, was dead."

"Yeah, I drove up and told her. She was always good to me, and she'd be waiting for Carl to come home. I had to tell her."

"So, Carl brought Tammy down here to rent one of your boats?" asked Annie.

"She followed Carl down in that fuckin monster truck," said Pierre.

"Can you tell me what happened after she got here?" asked Annie.

"Sure. They'd only been here a couple of minutes when the girl jumps out of the truck screaming and says her guy hit her with something. Turns out she was trying to make him go to ground, but he wanted to go to a hospital. He was hurt or something. That girl was fairly unhinged…what I saw of her. Her guy is way better off without her. I can tell you that much."

Pierre was pissing me off, but I didn't say anything. I wanted him to finish his story.

"Did you take her somewhere in your boat?" I asked Pierre.

"Nope. Did not."

"Where is she, Pierre?" asked Annie.

"Don't know. Sorry."

"Carl came here to rent a boat, so you must have taken the two of them someplace," said Annie. "Isn't that Carl's truck parked over there?"

"Could be, I guess."

"Check the plate Harlan."

"Copy that."

"Where did you take them?" asked Annie.

Pierre shrugged. "No place. I didn't take them no place, ma'am. Honest. A guy met Carl here and they took the girl and left. Last I seen them, they were headed down river." He pointed to his left.

"But you have no idea where they were headed?" asked Virge.

"Do not. None of my business what Carl does. We both mind our own."

"But you told his mother a girl shot him," said Annie. "How did you know that if you weren't with them?"

A flicker in Pierre's eyes. "I heard it a day later from a fisherman who stopped in for a beer."

"What was his name?"

Pierre shrugged and wouldn't say anything else.

"Yep, that pickup belongs to Carl Levron," I said.

"He and Tammy aren't here, but Carl's truck is."

We piled into Annie's Gladiator, and she was pissed. "Pierre took them someplace and he's afraid to tell us where."

"What does that mean?" asked Virge.

"It means the boat guy is afraid of the people who have Tammy," said Mick. "She's a fuckin goner."

"Can we make Pierre tell us where she is?" asked Virge.

"No chance in hell of that," said Mick. "Pierre is scared shitless of those people. He'll never tell us."

"Does this mean we're going home without Tammy?" I asked.

"We have to go back, boys. This is a dead end for us. We'll have to find Tammy some other way."

Gold Mine Hotel and Casino. Lafayette. Louisiana.

Annie pointed at the sign for the hotel and Mick pulled into the parking lot. "It's late and we'll stay here tonight, have dinner in the steak house and you boys can think about going back home tomorrow."

"Sounds good to me. I ain't never been so fuckin tired, Mom. I need to lie down and sleep."

"Me too," said Virge. "If we can't find Tammy, we have to go home and help Dad with the fuckin murders."