Bayou Betrayal (21 page)

“D
eputy Anderson.” Missy's voice burst through the intercom. “A Warden Prikton is on line one for you.”

Gary snatched up the receiver. “Deputy Anderson.”

“This is Warden Prikton. I've got some information for you on the relationship between Haynie and Trahan.”

Gripping his pen tighter, Gary nudged his notebook in front of him. “Go ahead.” He poised the pen over the paper.

“None of the guards I spoke with recall anything between Haynie and Trahan. Of course, some of them aren't on duty today.”

Gary's heart plummeted to his toes.

“But on instinct, I checked Trahan's visitor's log. Wasn't too long of a list to wade through, to tell you the truth.”

“And?” Get to the point, man!

“Over the last two-plus years of incarceration, Trahan's only had three visitors besides his lawyer. His great-niece, Felicia Bertrand, a Monique Harris and two visits by none other than Kevin Haynie.”

“Wait a minute—I didn't think cons could come back and visit inmates.”

Prikton let out a heavy sigh over the line. “It's not common for it to happen, but once they're off parole, it's hard to keep track of them. According to the records I found this morning, the counselor who approved Haynie on Trahan's visitors' list was discharged a couple of months ago.”

“You couldn't find him to ask?”

“Deputy, this is off the record, but we fired him for selling contraband to inmates. It happens in the best prisons.”

Now it made sense. “When did Haynie visit Trahan?”

“Let's see, Haynie was released last February. He visited Trahan once on October tenth of last year, and again on December twelfth.”

“How long were the visits?”

“According to the visitor's log, the one in October lasted three hours and ten minutes. The one in December lasted an hour and forty-five minutes.”

A sick feeling turned in Gary's gut. “That's it?”

“Well, I spoke with one of the trustees who works in the mail room about the correspondence for Trahan.”

“And?”

“He says Trahan and Haynie send letters back and forth. He remembered because that's the only general mail Trahan gets.”

“Did he remember anything that was said in the letters?”

“I asked him. He just said there weren't any of the trigger words they look out for to return a letter.”

“So we have no way of knowing what they could've been plotting?”

“I guess not.”

“I really appreciate your thoroughness and getting back with me so quickly, Warden.” Gary clicked his pen.

“There's one more thing you might want to know, Deputy.”

“What's that?”

“Since the Second Chance Act has passed, lots of lawyers have been filing pleas and motions and such to get their older clients out of jail on the early release program. Especially ones with medical conditions.”

Gary held his breath.

“Trahan's lawyer's one of 'em. According to my notes, Trahan has developed a heart condition and his medical report has been submitted to the committee for consideration of early release to a halfway house under the Second Chance Act.”

Now Gary thought he'd be ill. “You're telling me Trahan's lawyer is trying to get him out early? Surely there's not a chance of that happening?”

“That's exactly what I'm telling you. And that could happen, because of this act.”

Justin Trahan—double murderer—released into a halfway house? Would the Trahan name and money ever know limits?

Money…Justin's trust fund! That explained everything, or at least it could. Now to just find some proof!

 

“Did you miss me today, boy?” Monique scratched behind Homer's ears as he rested his head in her lap. She'd spent the better part of the day with Felicia and CoCo, brainstorming ideas for the baby's nursery. Though thrilled to be included, she was now exhausted. Sitting in the rocker Gary had given her, she glanced out over the bayou and rested her head against the back of the chair.

Just as she closed her eyes to doze for a few minutes in the afternoon peace, the shrill of the telephone brought her to her feet. She grabbed the cordless from the bedside table and slunk back into the rocker. “Hello?”

“You're a hard woman to find, Mrs. Harris.”

The vaguely familiar voice caught in her mind, which was filled with sleep-induced cobwebs. “Who is this?”

He laughed. “Did I wake you? I'm sorry. This is Investigator Walkin in Monroe. The one who handled your husband's case?”

Sleep sped from every recess of her mind. She bolted upright. “Yes. I remember.”

“I had the hardest time finding you. Good thing you have a listed number, and that deputy in Lagniappe called me. Otherwise, I wouldn't have found you so quickly.”

She swallowed the sigh. Her new number was supposed to be unlisted. She'd have to call the phone company. “How can I help you?”

“I wanted to let you know that George Knight has been diagnosed with cancer in prison.”

Her heart skipped a beat. The man who shot and killed Kent…cancer? “He's rather young, isn't he?”

“Forty-one, so, yeah. And it's stage four already. Took them a while to diagnose it.”

In a prison, she could imagine the medical diagnostics and care would be less than ideal. “Oh.”

What else was she supposed to say? She didn't even know what she felt right now.

“The reason I'm calling is because Mr. Knight requested a meeting with me. Said he had more information about your husband's case.”

She just bet there was. “And?”

“Well, it seems you were correct. There was someone else involved in your husband's murder.”

She knew it. Always had. “A driver?”

“Yes. Mr. Knight claims his cousin, Stanton Ogburn, was the driver of the car.”

“The name doesn't ring any bells. Should it?”

“No. As far as we can tell, Mr. Ogburn had no connection to your husband.”

“He lied to protect his cousin?”

“So it seems.”

Frustration held her heart in a vise grip. “So, George Knight still claims the shooting was purely random?”

“Actually, he's recanted that. Since he's dying, he says he's found God and wants to tell the truth.”

Hope sparked. “Really?”

“He now states that he and his cousin were hired to kill your husband and make it look like a drive-by shooting.”

The air she sucked in turned to lead in her lungs. Her heartbeat thudded in her head, momentarily deafening her. “Who? Why?”

“Hold on, Mrs. Harris, this is all a dying man's statement. It's not fact yet.”

“Why would he, if he's dying as you say, make up such a story?”

“To implicate his cousin. Maybe Ogburn wasn't even there but Knight's developed a grudge against him since he's been in jail. Who knows?”

But she knew. “I always said someone else was involved.”

“And we'll keep looking into that angle.”

“Who did George Knight say hired them to murder Kent? Why?”

“He said his cousin was the contact person. Took the money and set up the hit. Knight said he was only cut in on the deal to pull the trigger.”

“So you don't have a clue who hired them or why?”

“Not yet. We've got an APB out on Ogburn right now. He wasn't at the last known address Knight gave us.”

“But you
are
following up, right?” Oh, please. Don't let them drop the ball again. Not when she was so close to the truth. Finally, maybe she could put Kent to rest once and for all.

And move forward with her life.

A life that may include a very handsome and sensitive deputy sheriff.

“Of course. I'll let you know if we uncover anything.” He paused. “There's more. From what Knight says, you were supposed to be in the car with your husband.”

Her stomach tightened. Yes, she'd been working in the office with Kent at that time. But for someone to put a contract out on both of them? Why? She swallowed. “Thank you for telling me.”

“And I'd appreciate it if you could tell that deputy friend of yours, too. He seems to be quite interested. Even called my supervisor to follow up.”

“Sure.” Gary had done all that without telling her? No wonder Walkin was calling her, basically asking her to call off the dogs.

“I appreciate that. Well, that's all I needed to tell you,” Walkin said.

“Thank you for calling.”

 

“That woman of yours packs a nine mil, did you know?”

Gary glanced up from his paperwork and narrowed his eyes. “I don't have a woman.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Mike chuckled and slumped against the office's door frame. “Either way, Monique Harris packs a nine mil, and isn't afraid to use it.”

Oh, no. What had she done? “What happened?”

“Last night, I was walking along the back of her property, making sure no one snuck up from the bayou. Guess I made too much noise because out she came, in a fluffy blue bathrobe, and held me at gunpoint until she knew who I was.”

Man. The woman had guts, he had to give her that. He smiled at the mental image of the little woman with copper curls, holding Mike at gunpoint in her robe.

“Sure, laugh.” Mike chuckled along. “I'm sure it was quite a funny scene. But, just thought I'd let you know.”

“She didn't even mention it when I talked to her earlier.”

“I asked her not to call and ream you out.”

Now it was Gary's turn to laugh. “Thanks, man. Appreciate that.”

“No worries. So, I'll be out there again tonight.”

“Thanks, Mike.”

The deputy grinned and ambled down the hallway.

Gary looked back over his notes from the warden. Now that he had a link, he needed to let Monique know. He glanced at the clock—four. More than likely, she'd be out and about. The woman never seemed to stand still. He lifted the phone and dialed her cell number.

“Answer, Monique.”

Gary listened to the third ring of her cell phone. Where was she?

The fourth ring sounded, then her voice mail clicked on. Where could she be? He left a brief message before hanging up.

Maybe she was one of those women who left their phones in their vehicles when they got home. His mother did, probably because she was too unaccustomed to having a cell phone. She put it in the car's console and never even thought about it unless it rang while she was in the car. Good thing he'd told her to always leave it plugged in to the car charger—otherwise, her battery would forever be drained.

He dialed Monique's home number and waited. But not for long—she answered before the second ring could sound.

“Hello.”

His heart jutted just at her voice. He so needed to get his feelings in line. When he had time. Right now he had to focus on the job and only that.

“Hey, Monique. It's Gary.”

“I'm so glad you called. I just got off the phone with Investigator Walkin.”

While he wanted to launch into what he'd learned, he could detect the excitement in her voice and felt honored she wanted to share her news with him. “What'd he say?”

She told him how Walkin had met with her husband's murderer, and discovered she'd been right all along—there
had
been someone else involved. But it was only a family member, which is why the triggerman took the fall—to protect his cousin. Gary's ears perked up as she told him that the man now stated they had singled out her husband because they'd been hired to do so, and make it look like a random drive-by. She told him that the murderer stated she was supposed to be included in the shooting.

His grip on the phone tightened. A hit ordered on both of them? Maybe she'd been right all along, and it did have something to do with Kent being a private investigator. “Have you looked through your husband's old files, found what he could've been working on that might've given someone a reason to hire someone to kill him?”

“I can't. My house burned down, remember?”

Guilt slammed against his chest. “I'm sorry.”

She laughed, sounding almost carefree. “Don't be. It's a fact. But it's really nice to know I wasn't loony in what I believed.”

“Well, I found out something interesting today, as well.”

“Oh, me, too. Other than the news about the shooter, I mean.”

He paused. Had she found out about her father and Haynie already? How? “What?”