Rumble on the Bayou (37 page)

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Authors: Jana DeLeon

BOOK: Rumble on the Bayou
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But it was too late now for wishing. There was only one way out of that road by vehicle and Joe could easily have that way blocked. He waited until the truck reached the end of the road and parked, then grabbed his portable radio and called Dorie.

 

***

The screech from the radio made Dorie and Richard jump. "Shit," Richard said.

 

Dorie reached for the radio. "You got something, Joe?"

 

"Yeah, the truck stopped down the road from Maylene's. That must be the pickup. You find the drugs yet?"

 

Dorie looked at the stacks of duffle bags surrounded by hundreds of gators. "Oh, we found them all right. Smack in the middle of the breeding ground. There must be a hundred gators on that patch of land."

 

Immediately, Joe started protesting. "Damn it, Dorie! You're not thinking of setting foot on that piece of dirt, are you?"

 

"No other way to get the drugs off. I have a bunch of flares. We're going to create a pathway and get the stuff into the boat as fast as possible. Then we're getting the hell out of here."

 

There was a moment of silence, and she knew Joe was trying to contain himself.

 

"You do realize," he said, "that if the driver is in position, then someone else is going to be coming after those drugs? What do you want me to do about the truck?"

 

"Hold tight and wait for Lake Charles to back you up. If he moves before Lake Charles gets there, then try to follow. But don't be obvious. This guy might be able to lead us to Roland if we don't get the opportunity to meet out here. I want that driver alive and talking."

 

"Fine. But do me a favor. Duct tape the radio open. If you two get into any trouble, you might not be able to make it back to the radio in time. I'll take the portable with me. If you get in a bind, just holler, and I'll head that way."

 

"You got it," Dorie said and nodded at Richard who passed her the duct tape.

 

"That's really not a bad idea," Richard said. "At least if things get hairy, we'll know backup is on the way."

 

She stared at him. "Dick, if things get hairy, we're not even going to have time to yell."

 

He shook his head and sighed. "You know, it's so comforting working with you."

 

Grinning, Dorie lit the first flare and tossed it out of the boat about three feet in front of them and to the right. The gators immediately retreated from the burning object, hissing their disapproval. She motioned to Richard, and he tossed a flare a few feet from the boat on the other side. Again, the gators scattered, but remained within looking distance, their tails flicking back and forth in anger.

 

Dorie drew her gun and stepped over the side of the boat, a second flare in her hand. "If you see one of them rise up on his legs, shoot him. They're ungodly fast, even with all that length behind them."

 

Richard nodded, a grim expression on his face, and pulled out his own firearm. Gun in one hand and flares in the other, he followed her out of the boat and into certain hell.

C
HAPTER SEVENTEEN

 

Joe strained to hear Dorie and Richard, but finally decided that the signal was coming through fine. They had just stopped talking. He was sure he knew what had created the lull in conversation and was equally as sure he didn't like-it.

 

He turned the radio up all the way, placed it on the ledge next to him, then picked up his binoculars for another check on the driver. He scanned the road in front of Maylene's house. The truck was still parked at the end in the same spot as before, but the driver was now out of the vehicle, talking on a cell phone.

 

Maybe things are about to happen. He checked his watch. The Lake Charles police were at least twenty minutes away. If Dorie and Richard ran into problems out there, they were going to be cutting it real close.

 

He looked through the binoculars again. The driver had finished his call and leaned back against the truck smoking a cigarette. A good sign. He was there for the duration. Or a bad sign. That meant someone is definitely going after the drugs.

 

For a moment, he considered calling Dorie but then remembered he couldn't. The radio was taped open on her end and the cell phones never picked up that far into the preserve.

 

"Damn it," he said, mad at himself for not realizing the limitation he'd put on communication. "I should have thought of that earlier." He took one final look at the truck before climbing down from his perch. He needed to verify the location of the Lake Charles police, just in case things went bad. He could only hope Dorie and Richard got the drugs and got the hell out of there before Roland, or his mystery partner, showed up to collect their merchandise.

 

***

 

Dorie stepped carefully into the middle of the cleared path, lit another flare, and threw it a couple of feet in front of her. Richard did the same on the other side. They were almost to the bags, and so far, the flares had kept the alligators at bay.

 

She lit the last flare and threw it ahead of her. As soon as Richard's matching flare hit the ground, she walked steadily to the pile and hoisted two bags onto her shoulders. Richard managed four-the show-off-and they hurried back to the boat, careful not to further aggravate the alligators.

 

Their first trip over, they tossed the bags into the bow of the boat, and began back down the narrow path. "We ought to be able to get it all this time," Dorie said, keeping her voice low.

 

Richard nodded, his eyes flashing from left to right, watching the alligators. "You know this is insane?"

 

"I know," she agreed. "Someone must have screwed up big time. There's no way anyone local would consider this a good place to hide something."

 

"Oh, it's a grand place to hide something," Richard said as he lifted the last of the bags from the ground, "just not if you're planning on wanting it back."

 

They were halfway back to the boat when the shot rang out. Dorie spun around as Richard stumbled to the ground, blood already seeping from a hole in his pants. Dropping immediately to the hard dirt, she searched the brush looking for the shooter. "Get to the boat," she said. "I'll cover you."

 

He started to move and the second shot rang out, grazing his right arm and causing him to drop the bags. Only a couple of feet away from him, the gators began to stir, the scent of blood making them restless. As they started to move toward him, Richard looked up at Dorie, the fright etched clearly across his face.

 

"Run," she said as she dropped the bags and ran for the boat. They were almost there when the airboat exploded, showering them with a thick cloud of white powder.

 

***

 

Joe grabbed the radio at the first sound of gunshots. He strained to hear anything, but could only make out the rustling of marsh grass and the water hitting the side of the boat. He tucked the radio under his arm, hustled down the ladder and ran toward the dock. The sound of the second shot brought him up short, and he strained again to hear any sign of life out of Dorie or Richard.

 

"What the hell was that?" Pete asked as he rushed out of the bar and over to Joe, followed a mere second later by Stella, firing off the same question.

 

"Dorie's in trouble," Joe replied. "Pete, do you still have that barge trailered behind the bar?"

 

"Yeah," Pete said, confusion written all over his face, "but that thing hasn't run in years."

 

"I don't need it to run," Joe said as he checked his gun for bullets. "I need you to hitch it to your truck and park it across the entrance of the road to Maylene Thibodeaux's. Make sure a vehicle can't get around it. Then head up the highway and intercept the Lake Charles police. Show them where to turn and don't let that hotshot driver get away."

 

Pete nodded and rushed off behind the bar, obviously not about to question Joe's instructions after hearing the noise from the radio.

 

Joe shoved his gun in his holster and ran to the dock, leaving Stella yelling behind him. "Wait a damn minute, Joe," she cried as she hurried behind him.

 

"What?" Joe asked as he yanked the tie line for his boat off the pylon.

 

"Take my airboat," Stella said and tossed him the keys. "You can cut straight across the marsh and get there faster."

 

Joe snagged the keys and jumped into the airboat. "Thanks, Stella," he yelled as he backed away from the pier.

 

Stella waved and yelled back, "You go get our girl, Joe. Don't let anything happen to Dorie."

 

Joe had just swung the boat around and was about to lay down the throttle when he heard the explosion, and the radio went silent.

 

"Shit, shit, shit!" he cried and pushed the throttle as far as it would go, racing away from the dock. Once he had leveled out, he yanked his cell phone from his pocket and called the Lake Charles police. He quickly relayed the situation to the dispatcher and ordered him to have that backup haul ass. An officer was down.

 

Even as he said it, he hoped against hope that it wasn't true, but whatever was happening out in the marsh didn't sound good.

 

***

The blast from the explosion threw Dorie and Richard onto the ground a good twenty feet from the bank. Thank God the flares were still going, Dorie thought as she looked around. The alligators had scattered after the explosion, but it wouldn't be long before they were back. Remaining on the ground, she searched the brush in the direction the shots had come from. "This doesn't make sense," she whispered. "There's no channel back there. Whoever is shooting is on foot."

 

"That's not possible," Richard said, staring at her as if she'd lost her mind.

 

The answer washed over her, quick and painful. "Maybe my dad wasn't talking about his friend betraying him," she whispered. "Maybe he was talking about mine."

 

"None of your friends are foolish enough to walk into the game preserve," Richard argued.

 

"They are if they can talk to alligators."

 

***

 

Joe had just entered the preserve when he heard shouting. Scanning the marsh, he saw Maylene Thibodeaux wading through several feet of water and waving frantically at him. What the hell is going on now? He couldn't think of a single reason in the world why Maylene would haul her large frame through the marsh, toting a sawed-off 12-guage, but he wasn't about to ask. He barely cut his speed and yelled, "I don't have time, Maylene. It will have to wait."

 

"Boy, you better pick me up," Maylene yelled back. "I'm ass-deep in gators out here and not in the mood."

 

Joe cursed and drew alongside Maylene. She rolled over the side of the boat and Joe sped off into the game preserve. "I have to tell you, Maylene," he said once she had righted herself. "Someone is shooting at Dorie and Richard, and there was an explosion. It's not safe for you to be here."

 

"Is that what all the racket is about?" Maylene asked. "I've just about had it with all the goings-on around here. You go on and do your job, Joe Miller. I'll just ride shotgun and help you out."

 

Apparently, Maylene meant that literally, because she took a position in the raised seat located right in the middle of the boat, shotgun cocked and ready. The seat strained in protest, and Joe hoped to God it held until they found Dorie and Richard.

 

***

 

"You're even smarter than I thought, Dorie," Curtis said as he stepped out of the brush and into the clearing. He raised his left hand and signaled, and the alligators moved quickly away from him. "But then all them brains has got you into a load of trouble."

 

"Curtis," Dorie said, her voice choked. "Please tell me this isn't true."

 

Curtis slowly shook his head. "Sorry, Dorie. Things weren't supposed to go this way. I ain't got any beef with you, personally, but you kept sticking your nose in my business. Just one more day and I'd have been gone with my money. Why couldn't you just leave it alone?"

 

"You know why."

 

Curtis gave her a small laugh. "Yeah. High and mighty. Dorie Berenger and her dad. Gator Bait's pride and joy, protecting everyone from the bad guys." He stared down at her. "'Course, I'm sure you know now that dear ole dad wasn't the righteous man he claimed to be. If only you could've followed suit."

 

"I don't agree with what my dad did," she said.

 

"I reckon not," Curtis said and sighed. "You really are different than most, Dorie. It's a shame you couldn't take a warning and back off. I didn't want to kill you, but now I ain't got no choice. Roland doesn't like loose ends."

 

She stared at the man she thought was her friend and felt her stomach turn. "How could you?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

 

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