HE WAS THE SAME MAN who had aimed his gun at me a few days ago. I didn’t see anyone else. He held the same gun, and he flashed the same sickening grin. Abby guided the boat straight into the dock, and he motioned for us to get out.
I looked back at her and was surprised that she didn’t seem to be afraid or even nervous. I heard engines and turned to see the other boats approaching. We were surrounded.
The man spoke, “You’re a hard man to kill, Jack Patterson. Too bad you had to involve Dr. Broussard. Nothing personal, but we can’t afford witnesses. Now don’t do anything stupid. Both of you—out of the boat.” He waved the gun in my direction, and we obeyed. Abby slipped her hand into mine, and we began to walk slowly off the pier and up the ramp.
“You’ll see a car waiting to take you… well, you’ll know soon enough.” The bastard was clearly enjoying his moment.
“Your email to Stella Rice was a bit obvious, don’t you think? Once the deputies told me who rescued you and where you were, it wasn’t rocket science to intercept any messages or emails from Dr. Broussard. I bet you that right now Clovis is cooling his heels at Terry’s boat landing, about, oh, I’d say an hour away. It wasn’t hard to substitute it for this place.”
My email hadn’t fooled them one bit. I’d been too cute and blown it.
“I knew we shouldn’t have taken you to the swamp. It made much more sense to kill you in the hotel room, make it look like a robbery gone bad, but I was overruled. We also couldn’t anticipate Dr. Broussard saving your ass. Now she’ll suffer your fate—after the boys get their payback.”
I didn’t want to think about what he meant by payback. By now, the other boats had docked, and a bunch of grinning thugs came ashore. The two smirking deputies, Ted and Mitch from their badges, walked directly toward Abby, and she moved closer to me.
The larger one, Ted, pointed his finger at me and laughed. “You’re already dead meat. But Mitch and me, we made a deal. We led these guys through the swamp, and now we get to spend a little time getting to know you, Abby.”
He reached for her arm, but I’d had enough. Without a second thought, my fist crashed straight into his nose. Caught off guard he went to the ground. I turned to Mitch; my foot went straight for his groin. When he bent over in agony my fist landed on his chin in a classic uppercut. They were both on the ground sniveling, at least for the moment.
I was surrounded quickly by angry men who grabbed my arms and held me tight. The man with the gun was laughing, hadn’t moved a muscle.
Ted and Mitch slowly got to their feet, ready for revenge. I was about to get the butt whipping of my life when I heard a gun blast and a shout, “Enough!”
It hadn’t come from the man with the gun. Struggling to turn toward the sound, I saw a tall man walking toward us. His rifle was aimed directly at Ted.
“Let go of him, and back away slowly,” he said calmly, like he had all the time in the world.
No one loosened his grip or even moved. I caught sight of a hawk circling in the distance, looking for prey; time seemed to have stopped.
The man with the handgun broke the silence. “Now don’t do anything stupid, whoever you are. Look around. There’s ten of us here and more waiting with the cars. Lower your gun and walk away. You don’t want to get killed over something that’s none of your business.”
The tall man didn’t flinch or lower his weapon.
“I don’t think you understand. Abby is my business, and you’re on my property without permission. Now back away, all of you. I’m not going to warn you again.”
“I think I like our odds—twenty to one, at least,” responded the leader. His gun was still pointed directly at my chest. “And guess who I’m going to shoot first.”
I figured the man with the rifle must be Abby’s friend, Cary. It was easy to understand why she’d had a crush on him. His features were chiseled, with a deep tan; he reminded me of the guy in the fancy car commercials. I appreciated his intervention, but he was about to get us both killed. I wondered what he thought he could accomplish. Then I noticed the telling red dot from a laser scope on the chest of the man with the handgun. Cary was not alone.
I heard a bit of a shuffle and turned to see a big man striding down the boat ramp. Clovis was followed closely by six guys who were dressed in camo and armed to the teeth. The man with the gun no longer looked so confident.
Clovis stopped at the bottom of the ramp, his deep drawl about as threatening as any gun. “If I were you, I’d do as Cary says. Those fools back at the cars are sitting on the ground, all tied up and wishing they were anywhere else. There’s a laser scope aimed directly at your chest, and if even one of you reaches for a weapon, you’ll all be dead before you can blink an eye. Now do what Cary said: step away and lower your weapon.”
After the initial shock, the men did as they were told and soon found themselves handcuffed to the dock. The man who had held the gun on me, the leader of the pack, so to say, smiled and gave me a little salute. I tried to ignore him, but his attitude was more than a little disconcerting: he didn’t look the least bit concerned. Abby gave me a quick hug and ran to greet Cary. I tried to look nonchalant as I walked toward Clovis and reached out to clasp his hand.
“Glad you could make it. I was a little worried you might not.”
He laughed, “Stella got the email from Dr. Broussard, but she could tell someone had modified it to say you were going to Terry’s Landing, wherever that is. It took Stella no time at all to figure out that you were alive and headed to Cary’s when the storm subsided.
“I sent for Brian and Big Mike, and they recruited the rest of these guys. Given the weather, our biggest worry was getting here, but it worked out okay.”
Brian Hattoy works for me as a paralegal, while Mike works for the security agency that protects Walter Matthews, my good friend and owner of Bridgeport Life. In another life, they had worked together as snipers in the special forces.
“Thanks, guys—I sure am glad to see you! Now what should we do with these guys?”
Cary spoke in a deep Cajun accent. “The sheriff’s as crooked as a snake, and Clovis told me you were worried about the FBI in New Orleans. I called a friend with the FBI in Houston. He and I used to play ball—he’s as clean as a hound’s tooth. A team of his field agents will be here any minute. I’m comfortable they’ll put these guys away for a long time.”
Right on cue, Cary’s friend drove up and took charge. After he had taken our statements and his team had carted the bad guys away, I turned to Abby. “I’m worried that Ted and Mitch will get word to the sheriff, and he’ll come after you before the FBI can find him. Why don’t you come to DC with me?”
She smiled. “That’s a tempting invitation, but my work here in the swamp takes priority. I have at least three months’ worth of data to record after this storm, and flesh-eating bacteria to capture, catalog, and analyze—heaven knows what else. You know, all the fun stuff. Besides, Cary will be all over the sheriff if he so much as looks crossways at me.”
Leaving Abby here with Cary didn’t seem like such a good idea to me. He was a good-looking man who obviously cared for her more than his mother. But I sure wasn’t going to stay here in the bayou, so… Clovis was already waiting by his car and frowned when Abby pulled me aside. She gave me a long, lingering kiss, reminding me that we had a date the next time I came to New Orleans. Feeling much better, I walked toward the car’s open door. Shaking his head in disapproval, Clovis slammed the door behind me and off we went.