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Authors: Ramsey Coutta

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BOOK: Murder in the Marsh
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Seven

 

Sheriff Wilton Holet could not focus on his work. He couldn’t take his mind off the young man named Daniel Trahan who he had spoken to earlier. When he first saw his face, it instantly induced a flashback to many years ago when he was a young deputy. The memory of what he and the other deputy had done to the mulatto pastor, he had banished to the darker recesses of his mind. He had been young and easily led, as well as too scared to disobey. His conscience became so stricken afterwards, he eventually dropped out of the police force and worked offshore in the oil industry for a number of years. He knew he could never tell anybody what happened to James Trahan. Several years after the murder of Trahan, Lauzon died and the Sheriff didn’t get re-elected. Holet, always drawn to police work, rejoined the force as a deputy and served many honorable years in this position. He even earned parish wide acclaim when he single-handedly, and at great risk to himself, thwarted a bank robbery and saved a woman and her child from harm. With a glowing record, he rose to the rank of Captain and then got elected Sheriff of Plaquemines Parish. He had his dream job, a wonderful wife, and three grown children who were immensely proud of him.

Still, a sense of misery imperceptible to others pervaded his life. In public and with family, no one suspected something sinister gnawed at him. He experienced these feelings because of his murderous actions and foreboding that one-day these actions might be discovered. The misery remained a very real and present reminder over the past thirty-seven years of the evil he had committed. He experienced periodic episodes of anxiety and depression when he realized everything he worked for could come crashing down at any second. In fact, his misery was tied more to what he could lose than what he had done.

When the young man in the truck, who called himself Daniel Trahan, pulled up to his checkpoint, everything he feared flashed before his eyes. Had it been only the name ‘Trahan’, Holet could discount the encounter as just one of any number of Trahans in his parish. But the face appeared unmistakably similar to the murdered James Trahan, and the similarity could mean trouble for him. Questions immediately began popping up in his mind: Why was Trahan nosing around and talking with Grand Bayou residents? He said he worked for the federal government. Was he with federal law enforcement? Was he investigating the death of James Trahan? Fear of what would happen if his deeds were exposed overrode the any regret he had for his past actions. Holet felt an irresistible urge to learn more about this stranger.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Eight

 

Daniel and Rachel approached the outskirts of Grand Bayou village in Daniel’s boat. Daniel slowed the twin motors and observed the unusual marsh homes they passed. Grand Bayou village was a collection of modest wooden homes and fishing camps built on both sides of Grand Bayou Canal. The canal sat just west of the Mississippi River and ran parallel to it for nearly fifteen miles. Rachel explained that some of the first structures they passed were fishing camps, which belonged to weekend fisherman. Daniel found these lodgings interesting; particularly the names the owners had given to them such as ‘Hog Heaven’ ‘Amazing Grace’ ‘Uncle Tom’s Cabin’ and ‘Da Camp.’ Electrical power lines had been extended through the marsh to the camps. Water on the other hand had not, so all of the camps had large plastic drums on top of wooden supports to which the parish delivered water.

As Daniel and Rachel continued further down Grand Bayou Canal, they encountered dwellings housing more permanent residents. All the homes had a dock, and many of the docks had shrimp or oyster boats moored to them. The long wing-like skimmers of the shrimp boats, with fine meshed nets attached, stood hoisted high to make the boats more compact when docked. A side canal seemed to be the berthing place for the largest of vessels with two or three tied off to one another side by side. As they continued on, Daniel observed a number of boats, which had sunk in the canal, probably the result of storms or abandonment. Several homes also appeared to be abandoned and in varying stages of decay. Daniel noticed two black fishermen on a dock with their lines out in the swift moving tide. He waved and called out, “Having any luck?”

“Hardheads,” one of the men called back in disgust. “Nothin’ but hardheads.” Daniel knew they were referring to the bitter tasting saltwater catfish that were considered a nuisance to fisherman and had spines that could leave a wicked sting.

Rachel pointed out an old school the village children once attended off one of the side canals. It sat small and unpainted, but surely held many memories. Now all the children were picked up in a yellow school boat and transported to the main road where a school bus took them to Port Sulphur School. The old school was now used as a community center. They also passed Grand Bayou church. It had been built in the form of a long thin white building with a small steeple and colored glass windows. Members took a boat to church on Sundays for worship. Sometimes, Rachel’s church and Grand Bayou church worshipped together. When they ate dinner on the grounds, plenty of seafood abounded, including shrimp, fish, and oysters. 

Rachel finally pointed out a small, white, L-shaped home on the right side of the canal. The home seemed well cared for with green trimmed windows, a metal tin roof, and a screened in front porch. Several live oaks grew around the house, which added to its distinctiveness. Like all the other homes along the canal, a large dock connected it to the canal, but no boat was moored there. Daniel expertly guided his boat to one end of the dock and gently edged up to it. Rachel stepped out of the boat with a tie down rope in hand, and secured it to the cleat in the front and did the same in the back. Daniel cut the engines and climbed out.

Before they could advance across the dock to the home, a young well-tanned girl, no more than six years old with long brown hair and dressed only in a pair of cutoff denim shorts, came bursting out the house to welcome the visitors.

“Ms. Rachel! Ms. Rachel!” she shouted happily, running straight into Rachel’s outstretched arms. Rachel picked her up giving her a big hug.

“How is Michelle today?” Rachel asked the little girl.

“Fine, but Andre feel bad. He’s sick,” she replied in a thick Cajun accent.

“I’m sorry to hear that. We’ll have go to in and see him. Where’s your daddy today? Shrimping? I don’t see his boat.”

“Yes. Daddy go to catch de swimps.”

“Is your mama home?”

“Yes, mama’s home.”

“Michelle, I would like for you to meet my friend, Mr. Daniel.”

“Hello, Michelle,” Daniel said with a smile.

Michelle shyly said hello back.

“Come on! Ah will take you to mama,” the little girl said, grabbing Rachel’s hand and pulling her toward the house.

Rachel and Daniel followed her. The front door was already opened. Rachel knocked politely on the doorframe, even though Michelle was pulling them through.

“Hello!” Rachel called out, already two steps within the home.

“Come ohn in!” a female voice in a back room invited them. “Michelle, you bring Ms. Rachel back here where ah am.”

The house was spartan, but clean. The floorboards creaked as they walked and Daniel could see the marsh two feet below through cracks in the floor. They walked through a small living room to an even smaller bedroom. A young mother stood by a twin bed tending her son who lay there, obviously sick. She appeared to be a tiny woman in blue jeans and a tee shirt with a tanned face and long brown hair like her daughter. She had a friendly appearance, though her concern for her son was evident on her face.

“It’s good to see you again, Ms. Rachel. Ahm vary sorry Andre, he miss school,” the young mother apologized in her heavy Cajun accent.

“Don’t you worry, Mrs. LeBlanc. What’s important now is that Andre gets to feeling better. How’s he doing?”

“About de same. But my little boo, he’s a fighter. Right sha?” she said, stroking the boy’s hair.

“Dat’s right, mama,” the boy said weakly, looking up from under the covers. He looked about ten years old to Daniel.

“Do you know what’s making him sick?” Rachel asked.

“De doctor say he got de stomach flu. Andre, his stomach hurt and he vomit. He also does not want to eat and his temperature is high. De doctor, he say to get plenty of rest and drink lots of liquids.”

Rachel looked down at the boy, “Andre, I hope you get well soon. I miss having you in class.”

“Yes, Ms. Rachel.”

“School has just begun, and I don’t want you to fall behind the other kids. You’re one of my best students. I brought you some schoolwork to study, when you feel better so you can keep up.”

“Tank you, Ms. Rachel. I will do all de work before I come back to school.”

“Okay, Andre. I’m going to be praying for you. Would you mind if I said a prayer for you now?” she volunteered, handing the schoolwork to Mrs. LeBlanc.

“Dats ok with me, it is,” Andre smiled. Mrs. LeBlanc nodded her approval too.

Rachel first introduced Daniel to Mrs. LeBlanc and Andre, and then bent down beside Andre’s bed and prayed for the young boy. Daniel lowered his head during the prayer. Rachel impressed him with her concern for the welfare of the boy.

When she finished, she asked if she and Daniel could speak with Mrs. LeBlanc alone for a few minutes. Mrs. LeBlanc told Michelle to watch her brother, and they went out on the screened porch. Mrs. LeBlanc invited them to sit on a porch swing, while she sat in a rocking chair nearby.

“Mrs. LeBlanc, Mr. Trahan works for the federal government and he’s doing an investigation of changes in the marshlands. He would like to ask you a few questions about what changes you’ve seen over the years,” Rachel explained.

“Ms. Rachel. Please, you call me Adele. I’d be glad to answer questions.”

“Thank you, Adele. And please call me Rachel.”

“Ms. LeBlanc, it’s a pleasure to meet you, and I truly hope your son makes a speedy recovery,” Daniel said.

“Tank you.”

“I was actually born here in Port Sulphur, but my mother moved us away when I was a baby after my daddy disappeared.”

“Dat so? Who’s your mama and papa?”

“My mama is Joann Trahan. My daddy was James Trahan.”

“Ah don’t tink ah know dem.”

“My mother lives in Lake Charles now. My father was a bi-vocational pastor at Bayview and a shrimper before he disappeared. We’re not sure if it was foul play or not.”

“Ahm sorry to hear dat.”

“Thank you. I don’t mean to get off on personal matters. Actually, I would like to ask you some questions about the marsh and bayous, if you don’t mind?”

“Ah would be glad to help, but my husband Claude, he sees much more in de bye dan ah do.”

“The bye?”

“The bayou,” Rachel explained. “Adele, where is Mr. LeBlanc today?”

“Claude, he go to catch de swimps. De white swimp season opened last week.”

“When will he be back,” Daniel asked.

“Oh, ah tink Claude, he say he be back Monday. He jest leave dis morning.”

“Does he know about the hurricane brewing in the Gulf?” Rachel asked with concern.

“Yes, Claude he know. Ah tell him to not stay long. Claude, he say he come back early if de weather, she turn bad. He go out to Bay Batiste. Claude, he know de weather very well.”

“Adele, how long have you lived here at Grand Bayou?” Daniel asked.

“Ah live here from a small girl. Twenty-eight years.”

“And in those twenty-eight years, what changes have you seen in the bayo…in the bye?”

Adele thought quietly for a moment. “Ah see less plarie now dan den.”

“Less plarie?”

“Less marsh,” Rachel translated.

“Dats right. Less marsh. De tide come in faster now and it take away de marshland. De canals and bye, dey gets deeper and wider. Dere is more saltwater water now dan before.”

“What else?”

“No more cypress tree. De saltwater has kilt almost all de cypress trees.”

“Anything else?”

“Claude, he say dere is not as many fish now. He say he does not catch as many specks, red fish, and flounder. He say dere is too much hardhead catfish. Used to be, he could catch shoepick in de bye and swamp.”

“What is shoepick?”

“Shoepick, he like de hardhead catfish, except he likes de freshwater.”

“Can you think of any other changes?”

“De only other ting ah can tink of is dat when de hurricane come, de water it get real high. Dis scare me and the chiren.”

“I see. Higher than when you were a little girl?”

“Ah tink so.”

              Daniel asked a few more questions, including information about locations in the marsh that changes had noticeably occurred. They thanked Adele for her time and encouraged her to keep an eye on the weather. They told her to call if she needed any help. After saying one more goodbye to Andre and Michelle, they climbed in the boat and departed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

BOOK: Murder in the Marsh
6.83Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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