Rumble on the Bayou (2 page)

Their job complete, the law of Gator Bait climbed into their respective vehicles and headed back to the office. Dorie begged a Styrofoam cooler off Maylene and carried the finger inside. Reattachment wasn't a concern. The guy who lost it wasn't likely to post Want ads. But she didn't want it stinking up the station and wasn't really sure how long you kept this sort of evidence or in what manner. For the first time in her eleven years as deputy of Gator Bait, Dorie Berenger had seen something new.

And she wasn't exactly happy about it.

Joe had been right when he said drugs weren't a problem in Gator Bait. The small town had its share of professional drinkers and a whole lot of amateurs, but no drug addicts. Occasionally, Dorie or Joe caught teenagers trying grass they bought off other high school students at out-of-town football games, but no one seemed to be a recurring problem.

As Dorie pulled into town, she studied the sturdy, redbrick building on Main Street. The hand painted, wooden sign on the front of the structure read GATOR BAIT SHERIFF'S DEPARTMENT in big black letters. The building itself was representative of everything in Gator Bait; strong foundation and none of the new flash and glamour of things today.

Heroin here? It just didn't make sense.

She looked down Main Street and sighed. Jesus Christ on a stick, the whole place fit in a stretch smaller than a city block. Only eight buildings made up the entire town. How in the world had a place so small come up with a problem so big?

Pushing the questions out of her mind and focusing instead on the finger and what she hoped the print would yield, she grabbed the cooler out of her jeep and headed into the sheriff's office. It was best to take things one step at a time. Getting ahead of yourself generally only made you trip on your own feet, and Dorie was in no mood to stumble, especially over something this important.

Joe already had the computer up and running and the equipment for fingerprinting out on the table. It was getting on toward evening, and his favorite show was on television tonight. Dorie knew he hoped whatever they found from the print could wait until tomorrow, but considering the amount of drugs and money in the backpack, she didn't see Joe lounging in his easy chair anytime soon.

"You ready?" she asked, plopping the cooler on the table next to the equipment.

He looked a little uneasy, but nodded. "May as well get it over with."

She removed the finger from the cooler and passed it to Joe. He made a funny face but took the digit, dried it off and began the printing process. "You know I've seen people lose body parts," he said. "Hell, I've helped clamp off the bleeding, and that didn't bother me. But finding this finger in a gator's mouth without its owner anywhere around is creepy."

Dorie nodded. She understood what he was saying, even though she didn't feel the same. Everyone had fears to deal with. Or not deal with and just live with. It didn't really matter, she always told herself. The outcome was still the same. After all, she lived every day with her biggest fear, and no one in Gator Bait was the wiser.

"'That should do it," Joe said. He handed her the card with the print, and she took it over to the scanner. She carefully scanned the print into the computer and typed in a request for a trace. Whirling sounds came from the yellowed computer tower on the table, and the screen began to flicker.

"This will probably take a while," she said.

Joe pulled a deck of cards from his desk drawer. "Loser takes Saturday night patrol?"

Dorie smiled. "You love Saturday night patrol, and you suck at cards. Make it worth my while."

Joe considered for a second. "Okay. I win, you clean my house. You win, I help paint your boat."

She opened her mouth to agree when he raised one finger in the air. "But," he said emphatically. "I will not play poker against you. I've seen you make professionals cry."

Busted. "Fine. So what do you think gives you a fair shot?"
Besides my being drunk or dead.

He gave her a mischievous grin. "Go Fish."

Dorie laughed. "What the hell," she said as she took a seat across the desk from him. "Deal me in. It's not like you have any silver to polish."

It was almost an hour later, and Joe was already indebted for a half day of painting when the computer beeped and paper started to roll out of the printer. Dorie rose quickly from her chair and grabbed the printouts as soon as they emerged.

"Anything?" Joe asked, jiggling the change in his pocket.

She scanned down the papers, slowly shaking her head. "Not a thing. And these messages make no sense at all."

The jiggling stopped. "What do you mean?"

Placing the printouts on her desk, she motioned him over. "You see the message here from the national database out of D.C.? It says, 'No Match Found. But the usual message for no match with D.C. is 'No Matching Records.'"

Joe shrugged, clearly not understanding. "So maybe they changed their message. It's not like they'd notify us if they did. Hell, D.C. wouldn't notify us if they shut down"

Frowning, she stared at the papers again. "I know it seems minor, but something about it really bothers me. I don't have a good feeling about this whole thing." She sat down at the desk and drummed her fingers on the old, scarred wood.

"What do you think is going on?" he asked, now looking a little concerned.

Dorie had a history of "getting bad feelings," and her success rate was one hundred percent. Her bad feelings were no longer something Joe ignored.

She slowly shook her head and looked out the front window across Main Street. "I don't know. But something's coming. I can feel it." She looked up and gave him a grim smile. "Better prepare yourself, Joe. I think life is about to get complicated."

He nodded and blew out a breath. "What are we going to do?"

She rose from the chair and gathered up the printouts. "First, we're going next door for supper at Jenny's Cafe. You know I can't think on an empty stomach."

Joe perked up considerably, but then everyone knew he had been in love with Jenny Johnson since the crib. “That sounds great," he said and headed out the door, his television show completely forgotten.

Dorie smiled at his retreating figure. Men were so easy. Which was exactly why she didn't have one. No challenge, so what would be the point?

Jenny's Cafe was busy, but it almost always was, being the only place to eat in town except for frozen pizza at Pete's Bar. Taking a seat at the counter, they studied the menu on the board and waited for Jenny to make her way over. Dorie glanced at Joe and noticed his eyes fixed on the cafe owner with an adoring gaze. She couldn't help smiling.

He was a goner.

A minute later, Jenny approached the counter, her long black hair pulled back into a ponytail, her big green eyes sparkling, and Dorie decided Joe could do a lot worse than hook up with her friend. Jenny was young, pretty, smart and nice as hell.

When her mother had gotten ill a couple of years ago but refused to leave Gator Bait for a nursing home, Jenny did the only thing she could to make enough money to support them both, including fulltime care for her mother: She opened the cafe. And it had been an instant success. The population of Gator Bait was made up of a few more bachelors than married men. Added to that, the feminist movement had finally reared its ugly head, so home cooking was at an all-time low.

"What can I get for the fearless law enforcement of Gator Bait?" Jenny asked, giving them a broad smile.

Joe looked as if he'd been blinded by high beams. He sat there grinning like an idiot, not blinking at all. Jenny took one look at his face and fixed her eyes on Dorie. "Dorie?"

"I'll have a soda and a BLT on white," Dorie said. "Add a bag of chips, too."

Jenny nodded and made a note on her order pad. "What about you, Joe?"

Dorie watched Joe try to shake himself out of his stupor, but he only made it halfway. "The same," he finally managed.

She stared at him but waited until Jenny walked away before saying, "Joe, you don't eat bacon or tomatoes."

He sighed, clearly disgusted. "Shit. Is that what I ordered?"

Dorie nodded.

"Guess I'll be eating a lettuce sandwich then"

"I don't get it." She assessed the man next to her. With his wavy brown hair and amber eyes, Joe was considered a bit of a catch in Gator Bait and wouldn't have had any trouble holding his own in a big city. His lanky frame and soft heart only completed the picture.

"You're a smart guy," she continued. "Good at your job, dedicated to this town and its people. Why does this one girl make you an idiot?"

Joe shot a look back toward the kitchen. "I don't know. There's just something about her that gets me all tied up. It's like everything I say or do around her is so damned important."

She laughed. "And then you wonder why I don't have a relationship with anyone. Who needs the angst?"

He narrowed his eyes. "I didn't notice you having a communication problem at our annual conference with that sheriff from Texas."

She waved a hand in protest. "Sex is not a relationship. Sex is easy and satisfying, and when it's over, you're done and can move on. There's absolutely no reason to complicate great sex with a relationship."

"Oh, c'mon, Dorie," Joe said and blushed. "I hate it when you talk that way. Girls aren't supposed to think like men."

"Seems only fair since you're thinking like a girl."

He stared at Jenny, his expression softening at the sight of her. "Everyone thinks this way at some point in time. You just don't know when it's going to hit you and then - wham, you're knocked down by it."

Dorie-who had never even been gently shoved by the feeling Joe described, much less knocked down - gave him a smile. "If you want her so bad, then tell her. If you wait around forever, you might lose her to someone else. Don't take me as an example when it comes to love and such. I'm an old cynic."

“
You might be a cynic, Dorie, and a hard-ass, but I'd hardly call thirty-three old. You've still got plenty of time to be hit by the love bug. You just haven't met the right one yet." He gave her a huge smile. "Boy, I can't wait till you do. It's gonna be a doozy."

She shook her head and turned her attention to her drink. He couldn't be more wrong. Her life was perfect the way it was-quiet, simple, easy. Why screw up all that pleasure over a man? It couldn't possibly be worth it.

They took their time over dinner. Wasn't much reason to hurry since both of them were unhappy over the situation and not looking forward to the work it was going to require. Finally, reality couldn't be put off any longer, and Dorie shoved her empty plate to the back of the counter with a sigh.

"So?" Joe asked.

"First off, I'm going to put a notification bulletin out to all the hospitals and see if we can locate the man with the missing finger-not that I expect to turn up anything. Then we have to make sure that finger didn't belong to anyone in Gator Bait."

"Oh, c'mon, Dorie. You know that backpack didn't belong to anyone here."

"I know. But we wouldn't be doing our job if we didn't check. It shouldn't be that hard. I figure two places will cover all the residents. We'll hit Pete's Bar tonight. It's Friday and payday. We can cover at least half of the town's people in there."

“
And the other half?" Joe asked, sweat beginning to form on his brow.

"You still got your navy suit?"

He groaned, his worst fears obviously confirmed.

"Good," she said and smiled at the look of dismay on Joe's face. "Then we'll hit church on Sunday. That should cover the rest."

Joe's father had been Gator Bait's pastor for thirty-six years before he passed twenty years ago. After the funeral, Joe had made a solemn vow to avoid church from that point forward. He said he was done for a lifetime. Dorie had never asked him his reasons, but she was sure they were good. Consequently, she knew how hard it would be for him to set foot in the house of God, work or no.

"Go on home," she said, relenting a little. “Take a shower, and I promise you'll feel better. That's what I plan on doing. I'll meet you back here in an hour or so."

"Are you going to tell the sheriff?"

Dorie considered this for a minute and shook her head. "Not yet. Officially speaking, he's still on leave. I think I'll wait until we have something more concrete."