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A haze settled over the bayou this morning. Summer had returned with a vengeance. It was barely eight o’clock, and it was already ninety degrees outside. Sheriff Riley wiped the back of his neck with a napkin he found in his Chevy Tahoe.
He believed that God had looked over the town and its people when the hurricane made landfall the other day. Now that the water was receding, they could allow residents to check on their property. Those that had generators and wanted to stay would be permitted. The mandatory evacuation that had been issued for the residents had been lifted. All that remained in town were law enforcement personnel in case they had trouble with loitering. Sheriff Riley didn’t suspect they would have too much crime to worry with, but you never knew what could happen when a hurricane hit. After the problems associated with other cities when Hurricane Katrina hit, he wanted to be prepared.
The day before landfall, he knew which residents had listened to the mandatory evacuation and which citizens decided to brave it out. In case the waters did start rising, he wanted to know where to send the rescue boats.
He was grateful that Picou had paid such close attention to the weather forecasts and kept him updated. Being from here, Sheriff Riley didn’t take too much stock in the warnings issued until that massive storm moved their way. Their saving grace was that it lost strength when it made landfall. But being right at the coast, they still suffered damage.
They had been lucky that the water did not rise high enough to flood many of the buildings, just those houses in low lying areas suffered water damage. It would be another two or three days before electricity was restored, but the power company was working as fast as they could to get it restored.
Beyond the ferns and cypress trees fringing the bayou laid the body. It was partly submerged in the dark, murky water. The smell of death hung heavy in the air. It would be a while before he could rid that smell from his nose. The silence of the morning was broken by the squawk of the radio in his Tahoe.
The dispatcher asked, “Sheriff, Picou wants to know if he needs to head that way.”
Sheriff Riley answered her back, “Phyllis, you better send him, the crime scene techs and the coroner. We got a dead body here on Pecan Bayou.”
Sheriff Riley went back to the water’s edge to observe the body further. Damn, where did this body wash up from? The hurricane must have churned up the water something fierce.
Sheriff Riley saw Detective Picou pull up behind his Tahoe. “Do you have any idea who it is Sheriff?”
Adjusting his hat, “No, the body has been in the water too long for easy identification.”
It wasn’t long before the air was filled with the distant wails of the approaching siren of the ambulance. Dr. Greg Harrison and his assistant got out of the vehicle and joined them.
Dr. Harrison looked over at where the body was, “Do you think it’s a possible drowning from the hurricane?” He tried to shield his eyes from the sun while he observed his surroundings.
Sheriff Riley informed him, “No one has been reported missing. I didn’t get too close, but it looks as if the body has been submerged for a while. I am hoping to find out more once we fish the body out and move it to another location.”
Dr. Harrison looked over at his assistant, “Jeff, go ahead and get your waders on. I need you to get in the water to help with the retrieval. We have to be careful when we move the body. Let’s get the body bag underneath it before lifting.” Dr. Harrison turned to Sheriff Riley, “It will take all of us to lift the body. We can’t just pick it up not knowing how long it has been in the water. We want to avoid as much slippage as possible.”
Detective Picou shuddered at the thought. It took some maneuvering to get the body bag under the body. It was much heavier than he would have thought, and the smell became worse once it was moved.
Dr. Harrison looked over at Sheriff Riley, “I believe this is a woman, but the decomposing is so bad that I can’t guarantee anything.”
The Sheriff confirmed, “No missing reports have come across my desk. Picou, have you heard anything?”
“No, sir. I’ll have Detective Melancon call and check the surrounding areas instead of heading this way.”
Looking more thoroughly at the body before zipping up the bag, Dr. Harrison informed Sheriff Riley, “This wasn’t an accident. Even with the decomposition, it looks as if we may have stab wounds. There are obvious gaps in the skin that are too precise to be made from a propeller or from any form of marine life.”
Sheriff Riley couldn’t remember the last time they’d had a murder here. He instructed Picou, “While crime scene techs comb the area, I want you to look around and see if you spot anything.”
Sheriff Riley had confidence in his crime scene techs, but Picou had eyes like a hawk. He may pick up on something that others may think was insignificant.
It wasn’t too much longer when Sheriff Riley heard Picou, “Sheriff you better get over here. I think I got something.”
Sheriff Riley trudged his way to the bayou’s edge to see what Picou had found. As he neared Picou, he still couldn’t make out what the man was looking at, “What have you got?”
“It’s a human skull.”
Damn, he thought to himself. That must have been one hell of a storm. It must have churned something free from the bottom of the bayou. Sheriff Riley instructed the crime scene techs, “Let’s get this entire area roped off. I want this area searched. I want you to turn over every rock. I don’t want any area missed. We need to photograph everything, and make sure the location of where you find something is documented.” Looking out at the bayou, Sheriff Riley told Detective Picou, “The rest of the body has to be somewhere out there.”
“Yes, sir. We need to call and see if the state troopers can send in their dive team.”
It took about three hours before the divers were in position and ready. Detective Picou was surprised when they surfaced a few minutes later. He heard the diver shouting something and moved closer to the bayou’s edge, “Detective, you have bodies down here; it looks like most were weighed down.”
“What do you mean bodies?”
“Meaning you better get several body bags. Offhand, I’d say at least ten, maybe more. We still have a lot of area to cover. It’s a graveyard down here. Mostly skeletal remains, but the amount is still staggering.”
Holy Crap! Picou never figured anything like this would happen here. They hadn’t had any women missing from these parts, so somebody had to be using the bayou for their dumping ground. Who would do this and could they be from here?
Picou heard a rustling behind him and noticed his partner had arrived. “What took you so long, get lost?”
“Bite me. I can’t help it that you don’t know how to give directions.”
***
DETECTIVE JO MELANCON knew from an early age she wanted to be a police officer. It was in her blood; her grandfather had been a cop. Her dad may be a shrimper by trade, but he was also a volunteer fireman. Maybe it was something in the Melancon blood that wanted them to be a hero. By the age of ten, she had her life planned out. Although her life may not be going as planned, she did believe she was helping to make a difference here.
After graduating high school, she went to Louisiana State University and completed her four year curriculum with a 4.0 grade point average. She completed her degree in criminal behavior and also studied forensic psychology and profiling methodology.
She came back home and applied to the police force here in Bear Corner. She was the only woman to reach the rank of detective in Homicide. She was the only woman on the police force in this little town. With promotion in rank being limited here in Bear Corner, competition was fierce, and when you added the sexism in, Jo was surprised she had been promoted. But she had aced her test, proving that her knowledge of the law, procedures and investigation process was above par. Following the written exam was the board interview. She sat in front of a bunch of retired and senior detectives where they bombarded her with various questions and scenarios. She aced it, proving to them that she could work well under pressure.
She had been partnered with Detective Picou for less than a year. She had learned over time what his true personality was and that you couldn’t change him.
She had worked in a male dominated world for a while now. Most of these men were crude, outspoken and self-absorbed. There were a few men on the force that believed women did not belong there and most of those men had few reservations in exhibiting their chauvinism. Over the years, she had learned how to survive and brush off the comments. Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words would never hurt me had played in her head more than she cared to admit.
She had learned how to survive among these men, laughed at their obscene jokes and indecent proposals and, more importantly, massaged their delicate egos. The one rule she had stuck to over the years was to never get romantically involved with a fellow detective, or police officer for that matter.
Even though she was the only woman, she refused to hide her femininity. She enjoyed dressing like a woman. She even enjoyed the looks she got from men. She would not hide who she was. She had no desire to be one of the boys, but she wanted to be treated as an equal.
She was grateful her partner had never treated her with the same indifference as other fellow officers. As partners, somehow, they could work together without sexism and had even developed a meaningful kinship. Their working relationship had thrived because it was not defined by traditional terms. Mutual respect between the two of them had created a strong foundation on which to build a solid friendship.
“How bad is it?” she asked.
“We have found several skeletons so far and the divers aren’t done. It’s a watery graveyard down there. The partial skeletal remains are all that remain on some of the cement blocks. I have a feeling this killer has been operating in the area for a while.”
“Yeah, but before I came here I did as you asked and searched the missing persons reports. There are not that many in this area. I expanded the search to the New Orleans area, but it is depressing the number of women who go missing there.”
“Identification will be a bitch; that is if we can identify them.” There was no way they should find this many victims in one area. It just didn’t compute. She wondered how long this person had been killing and disposing of the bodies here.
The nude body lying in front of her looked like a balloon ready to burst. All that remained was a shell of a human body, each layer made of water rather than tissue. Her eye sockets were now empty. Her nose, chin, cheeks, and ears had congealed into a featureless mask. They would have to hire someone to attempt to put her facial features back together for a sketch.
If it wouldn’t have been for the storm they may have never found out about the watery graveyard. Picou was convinced this was the work of one killer. The question was who could be responsible? Was it someone from here or a fisherman that passed through the area? How long had the mass murderer been dumping bodies in these murky waters? Were there more bodies the further you traveled along the water?
Detective Melancon looked in horror as the skeletons were removed from their watery grave. Until now she thought she had been making this town safe and secure. She was losing confidence in her effectiveness as a cop as the bitter reality set in that a killer lurked in this town, if not on land then on water.
There were so many victims, and they didn’t know how they died. The water erased all traces of evidence, and they had no way of knowing if these were women or if they were raped before being killed. She wondered if they were tortured unmercifully before death and she prayed that they were dead before they hit the water.
As she realized the sheer magnitude of this investigation, the mere thought of what these victims must have endured was unimaginable. This would be her first case involving a serial killer. She never fathomed encountering a killer as diabolical as this in her career. How could another human being be so evil?
“Mon dieu, bien mauvais. This was one nasty killer,” she exclaimed.