FBI Agent Jade Monroe: Live or Die 01-Blood in the Bayou Page 17

  “Anything for today or tonight?”

  “The budget committee is supposed to meet at seven o’clock tonight.”

  “Then we’ll make sure to be there. We should also find out who those new members were that signed up. There’s a good chance that something may have been discussed at the club over cocktails that resulted in Billy’s disappearance and possibly Mark’s too.”

  I tipped my chin at Conway. “So nothing yet on the BOLO or APB?”

  “Not a peep.”

  I turned to Lorna. “Do you know what Mark drives?”

  “A newer-model silver truck. That’s all I can tell you about it.”

  “Good enough. I’ll get more details from the DMV, including the plate number. Meanwhile, we need a list of three of Billy’s closest friends or relatives who live in the area.”

  “The only close friend in the area is Mark. Everyone else is people in the property management field or from the hunting club. They’re friends, but I wouldn’t consider them close, and Billy doesn’t hang out with them. Our nearest relative lives in Baton Rouge.”

  “All right. Then we’ll start with trying to track down Mark. Lorna, I want you to keep calling Billy’s phone and then reach out to the other people he knows, including those relatives from Baton Rouge. We need to know if he’s mentioned anything to anyone about that business opportunity.” I stood. “Come on, Renz. Let’s see if there’s any action at Mark LaFleur’s house.”

  The DMV listed the vehicle, plate number, and address for Mark LaFleur. With that, we pulled up a copy of his driver’s license, which gave us his height, weight, birthdate, and hair and eye color. According to his DMV records, he lived just south of Mechanicville off State Road 57.

  The drive there took only ten minutes, but when we arrived, I was even more confused than I was before. Parked in the driveway was the silver Ford F-150 pickup that belonged to Mark. The plates matched the vehicle listed on Mark’s DMV records.

  I feared the worst. “What the hell? Maybe something happened inside the house.”

  Renz leapt from the Explorer and banged on Mark’s door. I caught up, cupped my hands around my face, and peered in the front window. The lights were off, and all I could see was the living room and part of the kitchen.

  “I’ll check the back.”

  “Hold up,” Renz said. “We’ll go together.” As we passed the truck, Renz felt the hood then shook his head. “Hasn’t been driven lately. The engine is cold.”

  The house wasn’t fenced in, and as we crossed into the backyard, a neighbor called out to us.

  “Can I help you?”

  “We’re looking for Mark LaFleur. Have you seen him?” I asked.

  “Who’s asking?”

  We didn’t have time for everyone who was suspicious of our behavior. I pulled out my badge and held it toward him so he could see it clearly. “We’re the FBI, and we need to speak with Mark. Do you know where he is?”

  “I haven’t seen him since early Wednesday evening when he left for the hunting club. The truck has been parked in the same spot ever since.”

  “Are you a close friend?”

  The man shrugged. “I’m Scott, and we’re just neighbors. We shoot the shit now and then, but I wouldn’t say we’re buddies.”

  “So you don’t have a key to his house?” I asked.

  “No, ma’am, I sure don’t.”

  “Okay, thanks.” I continued on and looked through the slider while Renz peered through the higher bedroom windows. “I don’t see anything, Renz.”

  “We still need to go inside to make sure he isn’t lying in a room that we can’t see.”

  “I agree. Want to try the slider?”

  “Yep, let’s tackle that first.”

  We stood side by side with open hands pressed against the slider. On Renz’s go, we pushed up on the glass, lifted it out of the track, and forced the lock to release the door. We were in. Renz called out Mark’s name several times but didn’t get a response. We searched every room and the garage, and found nobody home. There weren’t signs of a break-in or foul play. Mark wasn’t there.

  “I don’t get it. He isn’t here, I don’t see a cell phone or keys lying around, but his truck is outside.”

  “Right, so that means he took his phone and keys and either left with someone in a different vehicle or went somewhere on foot.”

  I wiped the sweat from my forehead as we walked outside. “I’m not buying a story of him going anywhere on foot in ninety-plus-degree weather and nearly as much humidity. No way, no how.” I walked to the truck and pulled the door handle. It was locked. “The truck is only a year old, so I doubt if anything is wrong with it. My bet is on Mark leaving with someone else. If he went to the hunting club Wednesday night but came back home and parked here, and hasn’t been seen since, my guess is that Billy picked him up. Just because Lorna didn’t know about it doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.”

  Renz leaned against the bed of the truck. “I’ve got to agree with you. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

  I looked down the street. “So if Billy picked him up, that means Mark’s house was on the way to wherever they went. My gut says they headed south since Billy lives north of here. He offered to pick up Mark on the way, and they drove to that location together.”

  “What are you doing?” Renz looked at me as I crossed the lawn to the neighbor’s house.

  “I’m going to ask that curious neighbor if he saw a red truck stop here yesterday morning and pick up Mark.”

  “Great idea, but wait up. There might be more questions worth asking.”

  Chapter 44

  Robby had been driving around aimlessly as he waited to go back to the sheriff’s office.

  Damn it, there’s no sense in wasting gas.

  He turned in at the drive-through lane of a hamburger joint, placed his order, paid, and found a shaded picnic table in a park to sit at while he ate his meal. Robby pondered the meeting the agents had with Lorna Bennett. He replayed the questions they’d asked her as well as the ones they’d asked him. They knew about the hunting club, and even though Robby had used his real name when he joined, that didn’t mean the agents wouldn’t go there and snoop around for information. Things could get dicey, and he needed to be careful.

  The fact that Billy and Mark had literally been devoured—and that what remained of their clothing had been burned in the firepit—gave Robby little reason to worry about becoming a suspect unless the agents learned that everything he’d said about himself was a lie.

  And that’s only if they come up with a reason to look my way.

  Robby was getting bored. Killing Mark and Billy was an escape from his dull life, but since he didn’t have much of a hand in their actual deaths and they didn’t fill his cooler, he was itching to get back in the game. Emptying people’s pockets of their hard-earned cash was a necessary evil for him to stay afloat. It also kept gas in his truck so he could scout around for his next victim.

  He wiped the ketchup from his chin and licked his finger. When he heard an argument between a man and woman in a car parked in the last space nearest the street, he turned. Robby watched with interest as the fight intensified. The woman leapt from the car, slammed the door, and took to the sidewalk with her purse slung over her shoulder.

  Hmm, she looks good in those pink shorts and halter top.

  Robby quickly tossed his trash, returned to the truck, and watched. He was ready to go if an opportunity arose. The man squealed the tires as he pulled out onto the street and slowed alongside the woman. More words were exchanged, and she gave him the middle finger and continued on. That was Robby’s cue. He turned the key in the ignition and drove to the end of the lot. The timing was right. The man yelled a few curse words then sped off. The woman was fair game, and just as Robby rolled up on her, she stuck out her thumb to indicate she was looking for a ride.

  Perfect, just perfect.

  Robby slowed to a stop, leaned over, and rolled down the passeng
er-side window. “What seems to be the problem, hon?”

  “Damn boyfriend, that’s the problem! We fought, I got out of the car, and after cussing me out, he drove away.”

  “Where ya going?”

  “Just a few miles south to Mulberry.”

  “Really? That’s on my way home. I live in Sunshine, so we’re damn near neighbors. Want a ride?”

  “Hell yeah. I’ll show that asshole I don’t need him.”

  Robby chuckled. “That’s the spirit. Hop on in.”

  His mind was racing. The only way to make her compliant was with a fast punch to the head. His heart pounded double time. He could barely contain himself as he imagined her tied to his victim tree. He would watch her succumb to the elements and maybe let a gator nibble her toes before he slit her throat and hung her upside down to bleed out. She was young, and her meat would be tender. He nearly salivated at the thought. Robby was sure she’d have something in that purse of hers that he could use too.

  “So, neighbor, what’s your name?”

  She grinned, and her teeth glistened. He planned to knock them down her throat soon enough. “My name is Sally. How about you?”

  “I’m Troy.”

  “Nice name. Like one of those Greek gods or something, right?”

  Robby knew just enough about history to sound smart. “Troy was a city in Asia Minor, which in today’s world is Turkey, but yeah, that’s close enough.”

  “Cool.”

  “So do you live with your folks, Sally?”

  “My ma. My pop died in a boating accident three years ago back on Forbidden Bayou.” She shook her head. “That area is cursed something bad, and they never found his body—just the empty boat that had strangely taken on water, yet there weren’t any holes in it to cause it to leak. Local folks say the gators probably got him.”

  “Could be true. Gators like meat, and they aren’t picky as to where it came from. But then again, it could be those swamp people who practice voodoo and use Satan’s serpents during their sacrificial rituals back in the bayou.”

  She shivered. “Those folklore stories give me the willies.”

  “Don’t know how much folklore is involved. I’d venture to say they’re all true.”

  Robby had just passed the last commercial building in Houma on his way out of town. Flat country, canals, and farther back, the swamps were all that lay between the small towns along Bayou Dularge Road.

  “What do you do for work, Troy?”

  “I bartend.”

  She giggled. “I love to drink, but my ma frowns on it. Says Jesus doesn’t approve.”

  Robby flashed her a huge smile. “Open the glove box, honey. I’ve got a bottle of whiskey in there, and I approve.”

  She bounced up and down on the seat. “Really? I can have some?”

  “Damn straight.” He pointed at her. “You and me? We’re gonna party.”

  Sally pushed the button, and the glove box door fell open. Robby’s opportunity came the very second that she dipped her head to peer in. He reached across the seat, grabbed her by the neck, and smashed her face into the dash three times until she slumped against the door. He checked the mirrors, didn’t see another vehicle in sight, and screeched to a stop. With a handful of her hair, Robby yanked her across the seat, and with all his might, he smashed her head into the dash one final time. She was out for the count and probably had a good concussion too. He would have her tied to the tree before she regained consciousness.

  Chapter 45

  I was disappointed that we hadn’t learned much about Mark from Scott. He said he had seen Mark Thursday morning through the living room window when Mark went outside to get the daily newspaper. Scott said he made a cup of coffee then went to his home office, where he worked for hours after that. He hadn’t seen Mark since.

  After thanking him and leaving, we confirmed that Friday morning’s paper was still in the tube holder, and the mailbox had enough mail in it to make us believe it hadn’t been retrieved since Wednesday.

  We checked with several other neighbors, but most said they had been at work at that time of morning. Discouraged, I climbed into the passenger seat of the Explorer, and we headed to the sheriff’s office. The one thing we were certain of was that Billy had picked up Mark yesterday morning before they left for destinations unknown. Neither had been seen or spoken to since.

  I looked at Renz as he drove. “This has to be related to the investigation.”

  He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. I assumed it was his way of processing what we did and didn’t know.

  Renz finally spoke. “The only way those two would be a target is if the killer knew they were the guys who found the remains.”

  “But so what? That doesn’t mean they knew who the killer was.” I stared at Renz and waited for an answer.

  “They must have told everyone they knew about the discovery,” he said.

  “So you’re saying somebody they told is the killer?”

  “There’s a high likelihood of it.”

  My skin crawled at the thought. “Damn it. Billy and Mark may have caused their own abduction if that’s what really happened.” I shook my head in disbelief. “How is that even possible, though?”

  Renz frowned. “In what way?”

  “Physically. How could one person overtake two men?”

  “By blindsiding them. Either the killer followed them yesterday to that business meeting and ambushed them, or—”

  “Or what?”

  “Or the business meeting they went to was with the killer and they didn’t know it.”

  My head was spinning. “Do you actually think they’re dead?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m guessing there’s a good chance they are. I also think if the killer knows that law enforcement is closing in, nobody will ever find Billy or Mark’s bones.”

  I stared out the window and watched as the wetlands passed by. I wondered how many secrets lay hidden in those bayous, and I wasn’t sure I would ever find out.

  “Are we going to tell Lorna of our suspicions?”

  Renz raked his hair. “Not yet. We need to talk to the board members from the hunting club tonight. I want an account of everything they remember and everyone they spoke to Wednesday night. We also need to review the applications submitted by the new members.”

  I checked the time on the infotainment center. We had three hours before the meeting was scheduled to begin. “Let’s tell Lorna that Mark wasn’t home but his truck was in the driveway. We can’t say for sure that he was with Billy yesterday, but it’s the only thing that makes sense.”

  Renz nodded. “And it’s all we have right now.”

  We returned to the sheriff’s office, updated Conway, and spoke to Lorna. She was tasked with contacting everyone Billy knew, even casual acquaintances. According to what she’d learned, nobody had spoken to him or knew about that business opportunity he was going to check out. If speaking to members at the hunting club didn’t give us new information, I was afraid the secrets of the bayou murders would remain hidden forever.

  Bob arrived a half hour after we got back. “Have any luck with your interviews today?”

  Renz looked irritated. “No.”

  “How about Billy?” Bob turned to Lorna. “Has he come home?”

  “That’s also a no,” Renz said. “You told us you know Billy and Mark.”

  “Yep, that’s true.”

  “When did you see either of them last?”

  Bob scratched his cheek. “A month or so back, I imagine. Came across Billy at the big-box store on the west edge of town.” He scratched his cheek again. “Can’t remember when I saw Mark last. I gave them hunting tips and advice, but it’s not like we hang in the same crowds.”

  “Humph. That doesn’t help. How about their favorite hunting locations?”

  “Depends. Hunting wild pigs is legal year round in Louisiana as long as that person holds a valid state hunting license. Boars are everywhere, in all our sixty-
four parishes, so I guess if one area has been cleared out, then a hunter would move elsewhere.”

  “So you’re saying you don’t know?”

  “I know where I like to hunt, but I can’t speak for the thousands of other hunters in our state, Agent DeLeon. Why would his favorite hunting spots have anything to do with Billy being missing? I thought he went to a business meeting.”

  “Just asking. Do you know any of the members in that hunting club, Bob?”

  “Other than Billy and Mark, no. Like I said earlier, membership there is too rich for my blood.”

  I stared at Renz until he looked my way, then I gave him the eyeballs. I couldn’t understand why he was being so combative with Bob. The guy had been trying to help us from day one.

  “After tomorrow, we won’t need your help any longer, Bob. Looks like we’re about to pack it up if we don’t track down the killer by Sunday.”

  “Like I said, I’m a good tracker, but going in on trampled and contaminated ground doesn’t work. I don’t know if anyone told you about all the venomous snakes in Louisiana. We have rattlers, water moccasins, and now all sorts of pythons from those damn voodoo people back in the Forbidden Bayou.”

  “That’s the second time I’ve heard that term. Is it a real place?”

  Bob chuckled. “Damn straight it is, Jade, but not a place where city folks should wander into. You’d die out there, sure as I’m standing here. Gators, snakes, wild pigs, venomous spiders—they’re all in the swamps. Even pig hunters should watch every move they make. Maybe Billy decided to go hunting after that meeting and met up with a critter that got the best of him.”

  Lorna chimed in. “I counted Billy’s guns earlier, and they’re all accounted for.”

  “Sorry, ma’am, I was just thinking out loud.”

  I checked the time. “We’re going to the hunting club soon. We need to take a look at that new-member roster and ask if anyone there knew of that business meeting.”

  “Well, I hope you find out something, but if not, there’s always Beauregard Rue as a last-ditch effort,” Bob said.

  “Who the hell is Beauregard Rue?” I asked.