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Authors: Ramsey Coutta

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BOOK: Murder in the Marsh
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Twelve

 

Daniel and Rachel got into their vehicles, and drove out to the highway. The highway through Port Sulphur was packed with cars and buses heading north. Trucks were piled high with whatever household furnishings could be tied on. It seemed like every truck and SUV also pulled a boat or camper. Those who had departed from the lowest end of the parish, had already driven close to thirty miles just to Port Sulphur, and they still had another forty miles just to get out of the parish. A lot of larger semi-trucks, dump trucks, and other heavy equipment used in the parish oil industry also clogged the road slowing the evacuation. Overhead, helicopters shuttled oil workers from the offshore oil rigs inland to safety. Over the levee, out in the channel of the Mississippi River, Daniel and Rachel could see the large ocean going vessels heading south toward the mouth of the Mississippi. They would be safer at sea, than facing the prospect of being trapped in the narrow confines of the river. The whole parish seemed to be one great moving mass fleeing the storm.

Entering traffic and heading north toward Happy Jack Marina, they could see that most of the homeowners had boarded their windows. The homes in Port Sulphur were not generally made of the sturdiest construction. Most were made entirely of wood and set on blocks a couple feet off the ground. It had been a long time since the parish last flooded, and few people remembered the devastation from earlier hurricanes. Less and less consideration was given when building homes over the years as to the potential effects of a direct hit by a hurricane, and the parish had grown lax in enforcing the regulations that did exist.

It took Daniel and Rachel double the time to reach the Happy Jack turnoff than it normally would due to the slow moving traffic. Happy Jack Lane appeared deserted. The street was one of the poorest in Port Sulphur, and known for a high rate of illegal activity. The houses and trailers were ramshackle, and the residents seemed to resent the constant marina traffic that rumbled up and down the street. All the cars were gone and windows boarded up. A barking bulldog tied to a stake outside a trailer was left behind with a bowl of food and water and appeared to be the only sign of life.

Daniel and Rachel pulled up and over the levee and down to the marina. Normally, scores of trucks with boat trailers would be parked near the boat ramp, but none were evident today. Only a single small truck was visible.

It seemed like a perfectly normal day. A light breeze blew and a few scattered clouds dotted the sky. Nothing to indicate an approaching hurricane. Daniel parked his truck by the ramp to prepare the boat for launch. Rachel pulled her red Sentra off to the side. As Daniel stepped out of his truck, a man came out of the marina office. He locked the door, and hurried over to Daniel.

“I’m sorry sir, the marina is closed. Haven’t you heard? A hurricane is headed this way.”

“Yes, sir,” Daniel responded. “I’ve heard, but we received a distress call from a resident out in Grand Bayou village. We need to go and retrieve her and her two children.”  

“I’m sorry to hear about that, but the owner of the marina has told me not to allow anyone else to put in today. Even those who own camps further down have been told to depart. The owner doesn’t want to be legally responsible should something happen.”

“You’re the manager here?” Daniel asked as he continued preparing his boat.

“That’s right.”

“What’s your name, sir?”

“Hank.”

“Hank, I want you to imagine that the woman who is stranded with her two children, one of them very sick, is your own wife and children. You can’t save them but you knew someone else could. Would you want that person to rescue your wife and children since you couldn’t?”

The manager didn’t have words to respond. Daniel sensed he had made his point. He pulled out his government identification. “Look, I know the owner is concerned about being held legally responsible. This is my identification. I work for the US Department of the Interior. You don’t have to worry about me or the government taking any action against the owner. This is considered official business, which will absolve your owner of any liability. Okay?”

“Yes, sir. That’s fine. I’m sorry. You can go ahead and launch your boat, but I have to leave. I’ve still got my family to evacuate. I‘m going to pull the wire across the entrance when I leave. I’ll place the key beside the pole it’s attached to. Just lock it and return the key when you leave.”

“Agreed,” Daniel said with a nod.

Daniel got the boat ready to launch. He backed the boat off the ramp, and it slid smoothly into the calm water. Rachel held the boat in place with a long rope connected to its bow. After Daniel parked the truck, he held the boat while Rachel climbed in. After climbing in himself, he started the powerful engines and slowly idled down the canal past the camps. Whereas normally on a Saturday, a lot of owners would be preparing to go fishing or just relaxing around their camp, today there were none. Smaller boats had been taken from their berths and hauled away. Larger shrimp boats had been securely tied off to the docks or pulled from the water. The more experienced owners left enough slack in the ropes so that the boat could rise as the water level did. Many owners had also boarded up their windows and cleared away any loose items from around the camps. Some camps, built ten feet high on pilings, were less susceptible to rising waters. However, many of the older camps built at ground level sat vulnerable to a storm surge.

Once past the camps, Daniel pressed the throttle forward and the boat flew down the remainder of Happy Jack Canal. Coming to Grand Bayou Canal, they veered sharply right toward Grand Bayou village. A few more minutes passed and they reached the outskirts of the village. Grand Bayou appeared deserted. A few ducks meandered around the boat docks searching for a handout. Schools of mullet ruffled the placid surface of the water and formations of white egrets flew north overhead seemingly making their own evacuation. Grand Bayou village felt like an abandoned ghost town, except the main street and side streets were watery thoroughfares. The solitude in some senses was peaceful, but unnerving in another. A day or two ago, it had been a bustling shrimping community. Now it sat as a lifeless shell of its former self. Crab traps which would normally have been in the water had been retrieved, tied up, and stacked on the docks. Shrimp and oyster boats were tied down, and windows for the homes boarded. It reminded Daniel of a shuttered up old western town when the villain came riding in.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thirteen

 

After he left Daniel and Rachel, Sheriff Holet directed the junior deputy to continue notifying residents of the need to evacuate. He told the deputy he was going to check on the traffic flow to see if everything was going smoothly. He drove north toward Happy Jack and then pulled off an unused side street. He pulled his car far enough down the foliage-covered lane that it would be difficult to see from the road. He then turned the cruiser to face the highway. He wanted to be certain that Trahan left the parish as he said he would. After about twenty minutes, he observed Trahan’s truck pass by and the teacher’s vehicle following. Holet gave them enough time to proceed further down the highway, and then he pulled out and followed at a safe distance. Just when they were about out of the Port Sulphur city limits, he saw Trahan signal to turn left, and then turn on to Happy Jack Lane. The teacher followed.

Holet cursed to himself. “They’re still at it,” he thought. Why can’t they just leave it alone! Let the past remain in the past.” He turned off too. After Trahan and Rachel pulled down into the marina where they could no longer see him, Holet parked along the side of the street. He would wait until they had enough time to put in, then he would follow in the Marine Search and Rescue patrol boat. The boat had already been hoisted high out of the water inside a boat shed to ride out the hurricane, but was fully fueled and ready to go in case of an emergency.

A plan began to form in the Sheriff’s mind. A plan that would rid him of this threat from the past, and preserve his integrity and good standing. A plan that would protect his career and his family. Trahan had to go.

Sheriff Holet rolled down his window and listened for the telltale sound of boat motors starting up. Before he heard anything, someone in a small truck came over the levee and across the drainage canal bridge. Holet got out of the cruiser and pulled the man over when he came near. He motioned for the man to roll down his window. He recognized him as Hank Jaspers, the manager of the marina.

“Did you see a man in a four-door truck and a woman in red Sentra pull into the marina?” Holet asked.

“Sure did, Sheriff. A man and a woman are there right now. They’re in the process of launching.”

“What for? Where are they going?”

“They said they’re going to rescue a woman and her two children stranded out in Grand Bayou village.”

Holet thought about this. It sounded plausible. Probably Mrs. LeBlanc. Then again, it could be a lie and a cover for their continued investigation into the death of James Trahan.

“All right. You can head on Hank. Get that family to safety, you hear.”

“Sure, Sheriff. Will do.” He drove off.

              Holet continued to listen for the sound of the boat motors. Shortly, he heard them roar to life and then recede as the boat pulled further away. He started his cruiser and drove over the drainage canal bridge and on top of the levee. Parked near the marina were Trahan’s truck and trailer and the red Sentra. Someone had pulled a thick wire across the entrance and connected it to a metal pole. Holet got out and possessing an extra key to the marina, he unlocked and lowered the cable across the drive. He pulled through, reattached the cable, and then drove down to the marina. The Sheriff’s boat shed was on the opposite side of the canal, but it was easy enough to walk around to it, since the canal did not extend any further than the levee. As Holet looked down Happy Jack Canal, he could see Trahan’s boat in the distance as it neared Grand Bayou Canal. He saw the boat veer to the right toward the village.

              Holet walked around to the tall metal boat shed. He unlocked a side door, entered, and closed it back. He had his mobile radio with him, and he called in to report his location. He told the dispatcher he was checking on Happy Jack Marina to make sure everyone was evacuated and the camps were secure. He stated he was going to do a quick patrol on the water to see if there were any boaters still out. The dispatcher acknowledged his report and signed off.

              The Marine Search and Rescue patrol boat was a sleek twenty-four foot craft, with twin 240hp engines, solidly built, and with all the latest electronic gadgets. It was outfitted with satellite positioning, radar, weather instrumentation, and a multi-channel digital radio. With the radio, he could listen in on one channel or scan all available channels for any conversations taking place. Holet pushed the down button for the winch, and the boat slowly descended. In a couple of minutes, it rested in the water. He opened the bay doors and started the engines, expertly backing it out into the canal. Instead of proceeding to the end of Happy Jack Canal, he took a quick right through a shallower natural canal. The tide was high, so there was no danger of getting stuck in mud. He would also be less observable, and could come up on Grand Bayou village through a back canal shielded by the large shrimp and oyster boats.              

              When he reached the back canal, he pulled the patrol craft behind two shrimp boats docked side by side. Their large profile shielded his craft from view by anyone using the Grand Bayou Canal. He tied off to the back of the boats and climbed into the wheelhouse of the innermost one. He could observe all traffic on the Grand Bayou Canal, but could not be seen unless someone came directly down the side canal. He settled down into the captain’s chair and waited.

Fourteen

 

Daniel and Rachel docked their boat at the LeBlanc’s. This time no one came out to greet them. They secured the boat and walked through the opened screen door and knocked on the front door. No one answered. They knocked again and still no one came. Rachel turned the knob and the door swung open. They saw no one, but heard Adele in another room talking. Rachel called out and they heard Adele stop in mid-sentence, and then heard footsteps approaching.

              “Oh, Rachel, Mr. Trahan, come quick. Ah tink ah hear Claude on de radio. He does not sound good.”

              Daniel and Rachel followed her to another room. It looked like a utility area. As they walked through the hall, they saw little Michelle standing at Andre’s door. She must have been told to keep an eye on her brother. In the utility room, a white marine radio sat on a small folding table. An antenna wire ran from the back of the radio up through the ceiling overhead.

              “Ah tried to listen to de radio channel dat Claude calls on,” she said pointing worriedly at the radio. “Ah heard his voice several times, but Claude, he doesn’t hear me.”

              “How long ago did you last hear him?” Daniel asked.

              “Jest a few minutes ago. Rat before you come in.”

              “May I listen?”

              “Yes, please.”

              Daniel turned up the volume and listened intently. At first he didn’t hear anything. He adjusted the squelch and over the static he could barely hear a voice calling out.

              “Mayday, mayday. Dis is Claude LeBlanc…de Bayou Queen…cracked hull…taking on water…pumps not working…Bay Batiste…mayday...mayday…”

              “Dats him, dats him!” Adele exclaimed. “Dats Claude…Oh Claude, oh sha!”  

              Daniel keyed the mic and called Claude, then waited for a reply. After a minute or two, Claude spoke again, but he only repeated his earlier mayday. He didn’t appear to have heard Daniel. Daniel tried again and the same thing happened. He could hear Claude, but Claude couldn’t hear him. Claude sounded like he needed help immediately. Unfortunately, all the boats on the water would have already evacuated.

              “Mrs. LeBlanc, what bay did he say?”

              “Bye Batiste.”

              “Hold on a minute.” He ran out of the house to his boat and pulled out some laminated maps he purchased earlier. He brought them back in and unfolded the one for the Port Sulphur area on the folding table. He leaned over the map and scanned it, quickly locating Bay Batiste. It was one of the larger bays on the map, about ten miles out through several canals, bayous, and smaller bays. It was a large rounded body of water. On its southwest end, the bay opened up into a much larger body of water called Barataria Bay. On the map, Bay Batiste looked to be about three miles wide at its widest point. It would be a very dangerous place during a hurricane. The large open surface of the bay would allow the wind to push mountains of water up in it, and the wave size would be tremendous. No one in a crippled boat would survive very long.

              “Mrs. LeBlanc, I’m going to call the Coast Guard. They can get a helicopter out there in no time to rescue Claude. May I use your phone?”

              She showed him where her phone and phone book were. He looked up the Coast Guard number at the nearby Belle Chasse Naval Air Station. After dialing, a man picked up on the other end, “US Coast Guard. How may I help you?”

              “Yes. My name is Daniel Trahan. I’m with the US Department of Interior. I have picked up a mayday call from a shrimper named Claude LeBlanc. His vessel is taking on water somewhere in Bay Batiste. I would like to request a search and rescue.”

              “Okay, Mr. Trahan. Let me take down what information you have. We’re currently responding to an offshore helicopter crash. Both of our helicopters are in the air responding. This is top priority at this time, and it may take a while before we can respond to your call.”

              “How long?”

              “It depends. Probably tomorrow, if the weather holds up. Our helicopters will not respond after nightfall.”

              Daniel understood that the crash would take precedence over a slowly sinking shrimp boat. But tomorrow would be too late, and by that time the winds would have picked up. The Coast Guard would be unlikely to fly in high winds. He went ahead and gave the information, thanked the official, and hung up.

              Daniel explained to Adele and Rachel the situation. Adele began to cry and Rachel attempted to comfort her.

              “Okay, we’re going to have to do this ourselves,” Daniel began to plan. “My boat is fast. I can get out there quickly. When Rachel and I went out yesterday, we went as far as Bay Sansbois. I’ve got GPS mapping on my boat, so I believe I can find Bayou Dulac on the other side of Bay Sansbois. If I can find Bayou Dulac, then I know it opens up into Bay Batiste. The only problem is Bay Batiste is big. It may be difficult to track him down, but given enough time, I think I can do it.”

              “That’s the problem, Daniel,” Rachel said with concern.  “There isn’t much time before the hurricane hits. What if you can’t find him? What if you run into trouble?”

              “I feel like I at least need to try.”

              “You’re going to need help. I’ll go with you.”

              “Mrs. LeBlanc and her children need you more right now. They need to be evacuated to safer ground.”

              Rachel turned to Adele. She looked distraught. In her mind, Rachel knew Daniel was right, and she needed to stay.

              “Mrs. LeBlanc, I need to leave immediately if I’m going to help your husband. Is there another boat that can be used for your evacuation?”

              “We have another small boat, but de engine break down last week. Claude, he say he can’t fix it. We have to get another one.”

              “What about your neighbors? Did they leave any boats behind?”

              Adele thought and then said, “Ah tink so. Across de canal is de home of our neighbor Paul Landry. He leave a boat here in his boat shed. He winched it up out of de water. He say de motor doesn’t work dat good.”

              “Okay, here’s what we’ll do. I’ll take Rachel over to the Landry home, and we’ll see if we can get the boat. We’ll have to explain to Mr. Landry later. Mrs. LeBlanc, you pack some food and water and check the weather on your TV. Hopefully, we won’t take long.”

              Rachel and Daniel took their boat over to the Landry home almost directly across the canal. Landry had a green boat shed and a dock next to it. They tied up to the dock and found the door to the shed unlocked. Inside the shed, just as Adele said, hung a twenty-foot flat bottom boat winched up out of the water.  Daniel slowly turned the hand winch and let it down far enough to put in the plugs. He then lowered it the rest of the way into the water and loosened the straps that held it. He checked for the key, but it wasn’t in the boat. They looked around, but couldn’t find it.

              “I think I can hot wire it,” Daniel said.

              He laid down under the aluminum dash and found the wires to the ignition and pulled them loose.

              “Okay, Rachel, squeeze the fuel bulb near the motor several times.” She did so until the bulb became firm with gas.

              “I’m going to try to start it now.” He touched two wires together. A spark flew, the engine coughed and smoked, then finally sputtered to life.

He twisted the two wires together and showed how he did it to Rachel. To cut the engine off she would have to pull the wires apart. He then stepped to the back of the boat to unlatch the shed bay doors. He then backed the boat out of the shed.

“Can you take it from here?” he asked Rachel.

“I think so,” she replied, looking over the steering and throttle mechanism of the boat.

Daniel stepped out and Rachel sat down in the driver’s seat. Daniel loosened the lines to his boat, and they both headed back across the canal to the LeBlanc’s. Rachel’s boat continued to cough, sputter, and smoke, but made the trip.

They tied up once they reached the LeBlanc dock and went inside. Adele had a bag of sandwiches ready and some water. She was watching the weather. The local weather forecaster out of New Orleans had a grim look on his face and was giving stern warnings. It was 1:00 in the afternoon and he was providing the latest update. Hurricane Katrina had significantly strengthened since Daniel watched the weather that morning. Winds were up to 115 mph and tropical storm force winds extended 120 miles out from the center. She was now a Category Three storm only 340 miles from the mouth of the Mississippi River. The weatherman confirmed that the hurricane was still making a track in a westerly direction, but weather hurricane models predicted it to turn northwest towards New Orleans. Daniel, Rachel, and Adele knew that if it did so it would hit Plaquemines Parish first.

“I better get going,” Daniel said. “Rachel, I want you and Mrs. LeBlanc to pack and evacuate just as quickly as possible. Mrs. LeBlanc, is Andre going to be okay to move?”

“He’s not doing so well, but ah tink with Ms. Rachel’s help we can move him.”

“If you run into any trouble, call 911. They may not have anyone who can respond, but at least they will be aware of your situation. Rachel, I need to get your cell phone number and home number. I’ll have my cell phone with me, but doubt the signal will reach as far out as I’m going.”

She gave him both numbers, as well as Adele’s home number. They also agreed he would have his marine radio set on the same channel as Claude.

Daniel knew that he was rushing. He realized this could be fatal if he forgot something important, but he felt like he didn’t have any choice. At last he was ready to go.

Rachel moved closer to him, “I’d like to pray for you.”

“Sure. Okay,” Daniel responded, though doubtful that a prayer would do anything to help the situation.

She took his hands in hers as they stood in the living room and she prayed for him, Claude, Adele and the children, and also for herself. Adele bowed with them, and little Michelle, who was watching from her brother’s bedroom door, placed her hands together in prayer as well.

Rachel reached up and hugged Daniel and told him to be safe. He assured her he would. He picked up his food and water and headed toward the boat.

BOOK: Murder in the Marsh
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