Kent Conwell - Tony Boudreaux 13 - The Diamonds of Ghost Bayou (3 page)

it took me a moment to gather my senses and climb off the
windshield that I was painfully straddling. By then, the sound of
the retreating outboard was fading into the dark swamps. I looked
around to see what had jerked the boat into such an abrupt halt. I
was stunned to see the big engine tilted forward, its lower unit
parallel to the water, with a massive chain linked around it, and
the other end fastened to one of the piers supporting the dock.

I shook my head and muttered in wonder, “Jack, what in the
blazes was on your mind?”

Cursing softly, I reached for the chain. I glanced over my
shoulder and spotted a man about fifty yards deep into the
bayou. He was standing in a boat, sort of like a canoe, watching. I blinked, and he vanished. For several moments, I stood
staring into the growing shadows where I had seen him. Or had
I? This time of evening, swamp shadows played eerie tricks.

I turned back to the business at hand. After using the chain to
pull the boat back to the dock in the quickly fading light, I checked
the Mako’s transom, surprised that the impact hadn’t ripped it off.

A soft rumble of thunder rolled through the swamps. I glanced
back to the south and caught a jagged trunk of lightning slashing down from a thunderhead outlined with silver. From a compartment under the casting deck, I pulled out the boat cover and
quickly snapped it on.

Pulling my truck back under the four-car carport south of the
house, I locked it and looked up at the house. The lower concourse
was covered with white lattice through which myriad roses wound
and twisted their branches. That was cute.

The single-story house on ten-foot piers was gray with sparkling white trim. Thick cypress shingles covered the hipped roof
that extended beyond the walls to cover the porch on all four
sides of the house and the French doors that opened onto the
porch from each room. All very cute.

The porch railings and balusters, as the stairs, were constructed
of cypress. Though they were painted white to match the other
trim, the stair details were rough and awkward, a jarring presence against the smooth details of the porch railings.

They were not cute.

Later I would learn they were part of the original house, but
regardless of their history, they were as out of place as a lump
of coal in a handful of diamonds.

I slipped my .38 from the locked toolbox in the rear of the
pickup and dropped it into my pocket.

Statues of the Virgin Mother stood at either side of the stairs.
The one on the left had no head; it lay on the ground beside it. I
picked it up to check its fit, figuring on using some concrete cement to fasten it back. I was surprised to see that the head was
hollow, and then I realized the entire statue was made of some
sort of fiberglass. Superglue would do the job.

I chuckled. Superglue and duct tape, the adhesive’s that held
modern man together.

Warily, I climbed the stairs. I could feel my heart thudding
against my chest, and my dry lips told me the rest of my respiratory system was speeding up from the tension.

I opened the storm door and then unlocked the main door.
With the blinds drawn, it was dark inside. I felt along the wall
for the light switch.

My blood pressure dropped instantly when the light came on.
I gazed around a neat living area, as modern and up-to-date as
the newest home in any gated community.

I had expected the place to be a wreck, but none of the rooms
appeared disturbed, which meant that either the two goons I’d
seen leaving were very careful or that my arrival had stopped
their search before it had begun.

A fireplace separated the spacious living area from the dining room. Off the dining area was the kitchen. And from the living
room, a hallway led to four bedrooms, each with its own bath,
including both shower and tub.

Satisfied that I was all by myself and that no bogeyman would
jump out of a closet, I made sure all the doors and windows
were locked.

With a grimace, I remembered I had promised Diane we’d go
out for dinner. I hated to leave. For all I knew, someone was out
there right now watching. If I drove away, they’d fall onto the
house like vultures. I drew a deep breath. In my business, lies
and half-truths are accepted practices. So I decided I’d tell her I
had car trouble. I didn’t figure she needed any more worry than
she had.

I called her and said all was well. “How’s Jack?”

“Oh, Tony. I’m so excited. He woke up after you left. I managed to get some soup down him. It’s hard with that broken jaw.
He had to use a straw. One arm is in a cast, and the other is full
of IVs. I had to feed him.”

I suppressed a laugh. Jack was a meat-and-potatoes man. “Is
he awake now?”

“No. But I told him you were here.” She hesitated and then
continued. “If you don’t mind, Tony, I don’t feel much like eating. I’ve got a Coke and a bag of chips. I’d sooner stay here with
Jack in case he wakes up again. I’ll come out tomorrow and get
a change of clothes.”

“Fine. Look, things are going okay. Nothing to worry about.
You get a good night’s rest. I’ll be in first thing in the morning.”
I paused. “When you reported the assault to the sheriff, did you
mention anything about the diamonds?”

Diane paused. “I’m not sure. I don’t think so. Why? Should I?”

“I don’t know. For the time being, let’s just keep it between
us, okay?”

I replaced the receiver and looked around the neat living room.
My stomach growled, and I realized I hadn’t eaten since the
hamburger in Vinton just inside the Louisiana border.

Louisiana is a gambling state, and I hadn’t been able to resist dropping a few bucks into the slots while I munched my burger.
Usually, I have fair luck on the slots, but today I’d bombed out.
I hoped that wasn’t a portent of things to come.

To still my growling stomach, I had a peanut butter sandwich
and a glass of milk.

I awoke when the storm hit, around midnight, a typical spring
thunderstorm with towering black thunderheads continually
lanced by brilliant orange and whites slashes of lightning.

I went to the window and watched as the magnificent storm
passed, its great gusts raking through the spidery cypress, bending the limbs and making the leaves dance. Crashing bursts of
light revealed the dark swamp in an eerie but striking relief.

Down at the dock, the Mako, pushed by the wind and waves,
rocked against its rubber bumpers. During the frequent flashes
of lightning, I could see the rain coursing off the boat cover and
sluicing into the black waters of Ghost Bayou.

I froze, peering into the stormy night. I could have sworn I
saw tiny lights deep in the swamp. I blinked once or twice and
then squinted again, but the lights had disappeared-if they were
ever there.

If you’ve never awakened to a Louisiana morning after a night
storm, you’ve missed one of life’s most beautiful experiences.

I climbed out of bed and threw open the window, drawing in
a breath of sweet, clean air. The coffeepot was ready to go, so I
flicked it on and headed for the bathroom. Ten minutes later, I
poured a cup and took it out onto the porch.

The rain had bathed the lawn and trees and shrubs with a
deep green that reminded me of one of Robert Frost’s poems. I
can’t remember the name of the poem now, but I’ll never forget
the line, “Nature’s first green is gold.” And as I gazed upon the
freshly washed leaves on the massive dark cypress trunks made
almost black by the rain, I felt a close kinship with the old poet.

Even the birds were happy. White egrets abounded, some
perching on cypress knees only inches from the bulwarks and backfill that Jack had thrown up along the edge of the black
water. Blue jays darted through the treetops in swooping dives
and curving arcs. And along the shoreline, long-tailed male
grackles did their mating dance around their chosen mates.

I drew another deep breath, savoring the sweet thickness of
honeysuckle on the morning air, fresh and clean as a newly
bathed baby.

And then, from the darkness deep in the swamp, came the
alligators, gliding silently beneath the tannic-stained water,
their bulbous eyes focused on the egrets and grackles along the
shoreline.

Sipping my coffee, I watched as a six-foot alligator glided up
to the bulwark and then gracefully eased over the top, eyeing a
shiny black grackle dancing around a mousy brown grackle not
eight feet from the shore. The birds appeared to ignore the reptile. The alligator, mouth agape, shot forward. The birds scattered. The frustrated reptile jerked its head back and forth once
or twice and then lay down, the scales along its spine vibrating.

I downed the remainder of my coffee and went back inside.

Before I left for the hospital, I made certain everything was
locked down, not that it would do that much good if someone
truly wanted in.

Covered with bruises, Jack was awake. Although still partially
sedated, he tried to grin when I walked in, but it was more of a
leer. He held up his right hand. I grabbed it and squeezed. “You’re
getting too old for this kind of nonsense, Jack.”

He gave a weak laugh. “Tell me about it.”

Diane spoke up. “They came in to give him another shot for
the pain, but he begged off. He wanted to talk to you first.”

“Well, I’m here, old buddy. What’s on your mind?”

He glanced at the door. In a muted, hesitant voice, he asked,
“Is the nurse gone?”

“Yeah.”

“Good”

IISo?”

“Something’s going on, Tony. And someone thinks I’m part
of it.”

I frowned at Diane. “Part of what?”

He blew through his lips in frustration. “That’s what I don’t
know. All I know is that diamonds are involved.”

“Diane mentioned them”

His words were slurred. “The other night when those two were
beating on me, they kept asking, `Where’s the diamonds? Where’s
the diamonds?”’

I interrupted him. “There was more than one, then?”

“Yeah. Two of them.” He tightened the grip on my hand. “I’m
scared for Diane. Don’t leave her alone, please. I’ve seen lights
out in the swamp at night, and we’ve had prowlers around before
this happened.”

“Prowlers?”

“I had to chain the boat to a pier. I didn’t know if they were
going to steal it or not, but one early morning, I saw two guys
looking at it. They were in another boat.”

“What color?”

“Yellow.” He tightened his grip on my hand. “Just look after
Diane for me, you hear?”

San Antonio flashed into my mind, but I quickly pushed it
aside. “Don’t worry, pal. She’ll be fine.” I glanced around at
her. Her eyes brimmed with tears.

The door opened, and a slender young woman in flowered
scrubs, her blond hair pulled back in a ponytail, entered briskly.
“Time for your meds, Mr. Edney. No more putting it off.” She
smiled at us. “Good morning.”

We stepped back as she checked Jack’s vital signs, then injected drugs into the IV. “Did you sleep well?”

He forced a wry smile. “With all this stuff in me?”

Within moments of her administering the drugs, Jack slipped
into a peaceful sleep. The nurse smiled at us. “He’ll sleep for
some time now, if you have errands to run.”

“I’ll follow you,” I said outside, as Diane climbed into their
Cadillac.

She looked around. “I have to make a stop at the vet’s first.”

I nodded, puzzled.

When she came out of the vet’s, she was cradling a tiny dog
with long white hair in her arms. She was cooing to the dog as
it was doing its best to lick her face. I don’t know what they’re
called, but the little guy could fit in a woman’s purse.

She turned the dog loose in the backseat, but it promptly
jumped up front as she slid behind the wheel.

I couldn’t help wondering where it had come from; they didn’t
have a dog when they left Austin to take possession of their new
vacation home.

Diane pulled into the carport. As soon as she opened her door,
the dog leaped to the ground and, like a white streak, shot across
the yard toward the mating grackles, yapping at the top of his
lungs.

Diane watched for a moment and then turned to me. “That’s Mr.
Jay. We bought him last week. He’s a miniature cairn terrier.”

I watched the energetic little terrier bouncing all over the
lawn, scattering one bunch of birds, then dashing after another. “Cute,” I said with a shake of my head. “But you know,
you’ve got alligators out there. Your Mr. Jay wouldn’t even be
a mouthful.”

She waved off my warning. “They wouldn’t bother him. Besides, he’s too fast for them.”

I glanced back at the yapping terrier, reluctant to leave him
outside.

Diane continued, “Now, let’s go in. I can’t wait to take a
shower.” She seized her blouse between her index finger and
thumb and pulled it away from her skin. She shook it. “I feel all
greasy and dirty.”

Diane and I had been married for a couple of years, so I was
more than familiar with her penchant for cleanliness, which at
times I had considered bordering on the obsessive. “All right.
I’ll open the windows and let in some fresh air.”