Rumble on the Bayou (33 page)

Sherry had spent most of the previous day questioning everyone in the center and found two residents who had seen the sheriff leaving with Buster, but neither man mentioned where they were going, and the residents hadn't asked. Dorie hung up the phone in disgust. What ever happened to nosy old people? First time she needed them to be in her business, they didn't know a damn-thing.

She lifted the phone again, dialed Information, and asked for the number to the Lake Charles airport. While waiting for a connection, she walked slowly back into the living room. It was almost a minute before someone answered and a little bit longer than that to transfer her to the air traffic division. Finally, someone picked up.

"Traffic, this is Larry."

"Hi, Larry, this is Deputy Dorie Berenger of Gator Bait. We had a noise complaint last night after midnight. Lady says a plane passed over her house. Mind you, this particular lady starts happy hour somewhere around nine A.M., but I wouldn't be doing my job if I didn't at least ask. Is that something you can check on for me?"

Larry laughed. "Sure, I can check. I wasn't on shift last night, but there will be a log. Let me take a look."

She heard paper rustling and a couple of seconds later the man was back on the phone. "Yep. Looks like you had a pass-over at about 12:20 A.M. No one contacted us establishing a flight pattern, so I can't give you any information on the plane."

“
It didn't land in Lake Charles?" she asked, a bit confused. Richard sat up straight on the couch and looked expectantly at her.

"No way," Larry said. "We'd have the info if it had. It looks to me like it came in from over the gulf and headed back out the same way after circling. Kinda strange, but we get a lot of rich, bored people playing with private planes. That's probably what it was."

"Hmmm, maybe so," she said, even though the explanation didn't sit right on her.

“
Let me know if you have any other complaints. If it keeps occurring, we'll look into it. We don't like unestablished flight patterns over the gulf with all the choppers coming in from the oil rigs. That's a recipe for disaster."

"I'll be sure to tell you if it happens again. I had one complaint before, but I can't say for sure if it was the same problem."

"Same happy lady?" Larry asked.

"Yeah. Same happy lady. Thanks for the information, Larry. I'll get back to you if I hear anything else."

Frowning, she hung up the phone. "Well, Maylene's not crazy. At least, she wasn't last night," she said, then relayed the rest of the information Larry had given her.

"Is that our drug drop?" Joe asked. "I know we've been thinking about boats, this being the heart of the shrimping industry and all, but a plane's not a bad idea. Especially if the drop is in a fairly isolated spot." They both looked at Richard.

"A plane is a damn good idea actually," he said. "Maybe whoever was using that road down at Maylene's was looking for a way to retrieve."

Joe whistled. "That's smack in the middle of the game preserve. You're talking about thousands of acres of marsh to cover."

"Maybe not," Richard said and flipped open his cell phone. "There's a guy in D.C. who owes me a favor. I think I can narrow down our target." He rose from the table and left the room.

Feeling exhausted all over again, Dorie slumped down into a chair at the dining table. She was in desperate need of more sleep, but not like the sleep she'd had-littered with wild dreams of betrayal and lies. No, what she needed was the kind of sleep she had after a few beers or really great sex. Like sex with Richard.

She tried to block the image of her and Richard, locked together in a frenzy of physical need and the feeling she had when it was over and she was snuggled against him, her body pressed tightly into his. That feeling of oneness - completeness. A feeling she'd never had before.

She shook her head. It was a complete waste of time to go there. With all the trouble her dad was in, Richard probably wanted to catch Roland and get the hell out of Gator Bait as soon as possible, conveniently forgetting he ever met her. And the worst part of it was, she could hardly blame him.

Frowning, she looked over at Joe. "Why is it, Joe, that sometimes the law and justice don't seem to walk the same lines?"

Joe shook his head. "You know nothing's black and white when you're dealing with people. And people made the system. People run the system. You knew it was flawed before you ever got in it."

She sighed. "Yeah, you're right. But it's hard sometimes, you know? Reconciling what I'm bound by law to do and what my heart and mind is telling me is fair to do. I don't like being put in this position."

She looked Joe straight in the eyes and calmly said, "When all this is over, I'm resigning from my position as deputy. If things turn out all right with my dad, I'll figure out some way to see he gets the care that he needs."

Joe nodded, not seeming at all surprised by her announcement. "You planning on going big time?" he asked.

She shook her head. "I'm not sure exactly. I just know I don't want to work in law enforcement any longer. I want to focus on the animals, the wildlife. That's where my heart is. That's where I feel I can make a difference. This other-I'm afraid if I stay in much longer, I'll end up doing the wrong thing."

"You know, you're going to have to leave Gator Bait to do that."

"I'll deal with that when the time comes," she said quietly and stared over Joe's shoulder out the window, not wanting to get into a deep conversation with Joe about the idea that had been niggling in the back of her mind, pestering her even before Richard had come to Gator Bait and turned her life upside down.

Besides, now wasn't the time to think about the future. The present was far more important.

A couple of minutes later, Richard dashed back into the dining room, whooping. "He's going to do it," Richard said, unable to contain his excitement. “In a couple of hours we'll have a satellite photo of the entire area. Infrared and everything-the best the military has to offer. He's sending it to your e-mail."

Joe and Dorie looked up at Richard in obvious surprise. "That marsh is right next to the Strategic Oil Reserve," Dorie said. "I'm surprised your request didn't mobilize the marines."

Richard smiled. "Yeah. He was a little upset about that part too, but he's still going to make it happen."

"Damn!" Joe said. 'That must have been one hell of a favor you did this guy."

Richard winced. "You don't even want to know. Suffice it to say that this guy is breaking seventy major laws to do this."

"I'm impressed, Dick," Dorie said. "A photo is a sight better than tromping through every square inch of the marsh. What will it show exactly?"

"The kind of photo he's requesting will show the marsh in light grays and anything solid, like houses, boxes, piers in black. The wildlife will come through as white."

'"That should narrow things down a bit," she said. "I have a site map of every square inch of that preserve. We can compare the two and eliminate the structures I have on my map. Then all we have to do is-"

The ringing of Dorie's cell phone interrupted the conversation, and she grabbed it off of the table and flipped it open. The conversation was brief, but as the color drained from her face, Richard knew it was far from pleasant. Bracing himself for what was surely coming, he waited as she slowly closed the phone.

"It was the hospital," she said, her voice hollow. "Someone brought Dad in thirty minutes ago with a gunshot wound."

***

Dorie, Joe and Richard rushed into the emergency room. A nurse behind the front desk recognized Dorie and walked around the desk to speak with them.

"He's being prepped for surgery," the nurse said, "but he should be all right as long as his heart holds. The bullet went into his side, but it looks like it missed all the vital organs."

"Who brought him in?" Dorie asked, trying to assimilate all the information at once and figure out at the same time the most important questions to ask.

"A fisherman found him over in a cove off Rabbit Island. He was alone in the boat." The nurse gave Dorie a curious look. "What's going on, Dorie? There's no way your father got into a boat by himself. What in the world was he doing out in the bayou?"

She shook her head. "I don't exactly know. I've been looking for him since yesterday. Can I see him before they take him in?"

The nurse cast an anxious glance toward the double doors to the emergency room. "I'll take you back, but just for a second or two. I'm not supposed to do something like this."

"I understand. Is the fisherman still here?"

"Yes. We told him he had to wait for the police to arrive. He went down to the cafeteria to get a cup of coffee."

Dorie nodded at Joe and Richard, who left in the direction of the cafeteria. Taking a deep breath, she walked through the double doors and into the surgery area. The nurse pointed to a door on the left, and Dorie slipped inside.

The room was empty except for her dad, but Dorie knew that wouldn't be the case for very long. She needed to talk to her dad and get out before the surgeon showed up and the nurse caught hell for letting her in. She walked over to the bed and looked down at her dad. He was pale, and for the first time in her life, he looked really old.

"What were you thinking, Dad?" she asked and stroked his head with her hand.

Sheriff Berenger's eyes flew open, and Dorie could tell he was trying to focus, but was under heavy sedation. "Dorie?" he finally asked.

"Yes, Dad. It's me. The nurse says you're going to be all right, but a doctor is going to have to see to that gunshot wound. Can you tell me who shot you?"

He looked confused and disoriented, as if he still wasn't quite sure where he was and why, then stared at her and tried to speak, his mouth moving but no sound coming out. She leaned in closer, hoping to hear what he was trying to tell her.

"Careful," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "Friends betray you. Don't trust friends."

She heard him sigh and lifted her head to look at him, but he was out cold. "Dad," she said and watched his shallow breathing.

The nurse stuck her head in the door. "We've got to get out of here. They just paged the doctor. He's on his way down."

Dorie nodded and hurried out of the room with one last look back at her dad. She closed the door and hurried with the nurse down the hall and into the waiting room where they arrived just seconds before the surgeon.

"Ms. Berenger?" the doctor asked when he saw her standing beside the nurse.

"Yes," Dorie replied.

The doctor extended his hand. "I'm Doctor Walker. Your dad's prognosis looks good, considering. I'm not anticipating any problems, but I'm sure you understand that with his heart condition, I have no way of being certain."

"Life doesn't hold guarantees, Doctor," she said. "I'm painfully aware of that."

He nodded and clasped one hand on her shoulder. "We'll be in surgery for about an hour. I'll let you know something as soon as we're out." He dropped his hand, nodded to the nurse, and walked through the double doors.

Richard and Joe returned while Dorie was speaking to the doctor, and she turned to address them as soon as he was gone. "Did you get anything?" she asked.

Joe shook his head. "The guy is a regular fisherman in that area. He saw the boat and didn't think anything of it at first, but when he was passing and started to wave, he realized that your dad was in a wheelchair and was slumped down. He pulled alongside and saw the blood, checked for a pulse, and tried to start Buster's boat, but it was a no-go. Not having any other choice, he said he tilted the wheelchair to the side, and dumped your dad out into the bottom of his boat. Then he hauled ass to the docks and called 911 from the marina."

"He didn't see anyone else around?"

"Not a soul," Joe replied. "He said it was dead quiet out there. No sight or sound of other boats."

"What do you think happened?" Richard asked. "Was your dad awake? Did he say anything?"

"I don't know what happened. Dad was heavily drugged, and I'm not sure how much of what he said he really understood, but what he did manage to say bothers me." And she told them what the sheriff said.

Joe blew out a breath. "Do you think Buster was still in on everything, and the sheriff found him out?"

Dorie looked at him and slowly shook her head. “At this point, I can't assume anything," she said and sat down on a couch to wait while Joe went to make some phone calls, letting all concerned parties know what was happening.