Revision 04/15/15



Chapter 1-'Gator Bait

She stood in the doorway with the backlight of the bathroom giving her a surreal glow. Auburn hair falling down onto her milky white shoulders. The black lace negligee barely concealing the soft curves of her body. She sauntered over to the bed where he lay. He could smell the musty scent of her perfume. It had been blended just for her in Paris. Her moist red lips touched his neck and he moaned.

The clanging alarm roused Renee from his vivid dream. Damn its morning... just when I'm gettin' to the good part. Stretching his long arms, Renee gave the old clock one good swipe. The noise continued as it crashed onto the oak floor. Rolling drunkenly into the lavatory, it finally landed on the detested pink rose rug bought years ago in Paris. Evie loved pink and green. Their entire bedroom was decorated in pink. Renee thought the room could have used a little more testosterone and tried to compromise with Evie on the choice of color. Obviously, his efforts had not worked. It was always her way or no way. She would stamp her size fives and let the tears fall from her green eyes, he or her daddy would never deny her.

Out of habit he rolled over and felt for Evangeline; the bed was cold. His erotic dream of kissing her pouty red lips and holding her slim body in his arms was fading fast. Now, he wanted to go back to sleep and finish his dream. Instead, the alarm kept ringing.

Damn clock, damn Cuba Libres, damn my head hurts. Renee thought as he ran his hands through his dark hair. Drinking himself into oblivion the night before, all he had to show for it this morning was a dry mouth and a pounding headache. "Next time, I should tell Maybelle to mix my drinks with a little less rum and more Coke," he muttered to himself.
He could feel the tension in his body rising. Damn Evangeline. A night of too much alcohol and cards was only a temporary fix. The ache he felt was a constant reminder that she would be with her daddy for at least another month. The few letters he received raved about the fantastic time they were having in New York. Everything would be okay once she was back home he kept telling himself.

I've got to get to work. He yawned and rolled all six feet of his lean naked body out of bed. Rubbing the dark curly hair on his chest he strolled into the bathroom and shut the offending alarm off. As he waited for the water to run hot in his shower, he put the clock back on the antique mahogany night stand next to their wedding picture. The morning breeze fluttered the white lace curtains. Daylight was just beginning to streak across the sky.
**********
Maybelle, up early as always, had his dark Community Coffee steaming hot beside his breakfast of thick slabs of bacon, grits, hot Cat Head biscuits loaded with her special Apple Butter, and eggs over easy. He liked to take his morning meal in the kitchen with 'the help'. The warmth of the kitchen, the smells of baking bread took his mind back to his childhood home. Maybelle, the Dubon cook for years, treated him like one of her family. He, in turn, thought of her as a good friend and not an employee. Evie continually scolded him "he should not be so familiar with the help."

"Good mornin' child, you come right over here and sit down. I's have yous brakfust all ready fer ya."

"Maybelle, I don't know if I can eat this mornin'. I'm feeling pretty green around the gills."

"You don' pay dat feelin' no mind...you just had too much of that licker last night. Yous gonna need some food in that scrawny belly of yourn. Sit...eat. I's ain't got no time to fools with you dis mornin'...it's time for my church meetin'. Yous finish here and git on to work so's I can go prays for yer soul."

"Well, okay. While you praying you might want to put a word in for Evie, too."

"Dat, Evie, why's I don' know if ins there's any hope fer dat gal...but for you...I's will pray. Now eat yer brakfust."
**********
The drive into town was peaceful. October in Louisiana can be hot and muggy, but this morning the air was still in the 70's with fog lingering low in some places along Bayou Road. Renee noticed the Pecan and Hickory leaves were beginning to turn golden yellow. Sycamores brilliant orange, Swamp Maples all taking on the colors of fall. The air fragrant with the distinct smell of swamps, sugar cane fields, wood smoke, and moist leaves. It was refreshing to drive with windows down and savor the drive and his coffee. He passed a couple of women dressed in their white bonnets and aprons walking toward Boudreaux Canal and the Canning Factory. Lights were also on at the Sugar Mill. Since the war had begun, most the factory workers in town had to be at work before daylight and worked long hours sometimes until dark. All the other businesses in town had 'pulled up their sidewalks' and wouldn't be open until at least after noon. St. Francis de Sales Catholic Church had finished its early mass so the workers could be at work on time. The Methodist were still asleep. Their three story brick church was still dark this Sunday morning. The Terrebonne Parish Sheriff's office was never closed. The small red brick structure with eight holding cells stood in the shadow of the county court house.

Ethel was sitting behind the front desk at the switchboard.

"Good morning, Ethel," Renee smiled.

"Good morning, Sheriff... Deputy Pierre hasn't shown up yet, and neither Mary Jo. I've told her a hundred times she needs to be here before my shift ends. Darn girl..."

"I'll talk with her when she comes in." Renee inching toward his office.

"It won't do no good...but go ahead." Ethel huffed and pushed her black horn rimmed glasses further up on her nose. "Deputy Saul's already here and back in the jail feeding the heathens."

"Now Ethel, be kind. You know they're your neighbors."

"No, they sure are not! My neighbors are all God fearin' souls. They don't spend their weekends getting' drunk and causing trouble."

"Well, I don't think all of them are so saintly," Renee grinned.

"There she is...Mary Jo! I've told you a hundred times to get here on time."

"I'm sorry, Ethel, my baby was up all night with the croup."

"Well, okay, but be on time next time." Ethel glared at Renee and grabbed her hat. "Sheriff wants to talk with you. I'm going home now and get ready for church...just got to get my purse out of the back."

Renee nodded to Mary and walked toward his office. "Mary, I'll speak with you later. Let me know when Pierre comes in."
**********
Sheriff Renee's office was located to the right of the front door and desk. He opened his door; the rush of air was hot and stale from cigarettes smoked by the night deputy. Lucky Strikes butts spilled out of the tar stained ashtray onto the desk. Renee picked up the ashtray and dumped the contents in the trash. "Damn Deputy Robert", I'm going to have to talk with him about not leaving my office looking like a pig sty."

The small metal fan on the black file cabinet made a rattling noise but didn't do much but stir the musty air. His big front window looked out to the lawn of the courthouse square. Good weather days Renee enjoyed watching the old timers sitting on the benches under hundred- year-old Oaks smoking and spinning their yarns. In colder weather, he knew he'd always find the same group at Katy's Kafe drinking coffee and playing checkers. No old timers, yet, this morning. Probably still getting ready for Sunday morning services. The sound of the calendar on the far wall flapping from the breeze of the fan caught his attention. He walked over and flipped the month up to October 1943. That's better. I can't seem to ever remember to switch those things, he thought. Sitting down behind his massive Oak desk he began shuffling papers from the night report. Saturday nights always brought a few domestic violence cases, drunk and disorderly, maybe a theft or two but nothing out of the ordinary. Houma was a pretty low key town compared to Shreveport.
**********
The ringing of the front office phone stirred Renee out of his thoughts. "MARY JO, are you goin' to get that?" Renee yelled into the front office. No reply. Renee picked up the phone. "Sheriff's office, Sheriff Herbert speaking. How can I help you? Who did you say you are?"

"Sheriff, my name is Pierre Martin. I am a shrimper from Lafourche Parish...I found a body dis morning in my net while trawling Gator Bayou. Look like it a man. He don't have no arms or legs...guess da 'gators dun eat dem. He had a knife stuck in his belly. It look like a killin' to me. You better come see."

"I'll be right there. Keep everyone away until I get there. Where are you docked?"

"My boat it docked on Bayou Cane at the Cross Roads pier."

"Okay, I'll be there as soon as I can." Renee hung up the phone. He heard the front door slam. He walked to the front office and noticed Mary Jo stepping out of the bathroom with a lipstick in her hand the same time Deputy Pierre had come through the door. "Mary Jo... Deputy Pierre, you're late. We got an apparent homicide out on Bayou Cane. Mary Jo, call the coroner and have him get out there with his crew. Call Deputy Robert, and Mark at home. Tell them to meet me at the Cross Roads pier. I'll explain everything later."
**********
It took Sheriff Renee about thirty minutes to make his way through town and out to the bayou. He had heard of bodies, the locals called them ' floaters', being found in the bayous ,but since he had taken office, he hadn't experienced any homicides or drowning incidents. He would proceed with caution and get all the details right. He didn't want to mess this up. After all, he had some big shoes to fill. His father-in-law Sheriff Duhon had been in office a long time before retiring. The locals in these parts didn't take to change very quickly and especially when the change meant a stranger for their new Sheriff. Renee knew the only reason he had won the election was because of the old man's power and influence. I won' let Evangeline down. She is counting on me being as successful as her daddy. He thought to himself.
*********
A crowd was milling around at the pier behind a roped off area trying to get a good look at the body.

Jake Smith's black 1938 Ford was parked at the pier. He had the reputation around town of being quite the speed demon. His heavy foot had won him a few trophies at the local Saturday night track in his younger days. He always tried his best to be the first on any and all crime scenes. Renee smiled when he saw the Ford. That old man will never grow up. Mark and Robert were still sitting in Mark's Ford. Renee tipped his hat at his deputies. "What you waitin' on?" Renee barked. "Secure the premises. Mark, get these people going on about their business." Just what I need this morning, a bunch of rubber neckers... Damn my head hurts."

"Robert get a statement from the fisherman."

Renee heard his hacking cough before he saw Jake's distinctive white hair. As usual, Jake had dressed his thin frame in a shiny black suit and white shirt. He looks more like an undertaken than the coroner, Renee thought.

"Hey, Jake, got any impressions?"

Jake Smith was puffing on a long Cuban cigar all the while snapping pictures of the body at various angles. For a man of forty-eight, his unruly white hair gave the impression that he was a much older man.

"Man, what happened to you?" Jake muttered as he clinched his cigar between his teeth.

"Oh, just a little too much fun last night."

"And you didn't invite me? Maybe you need a little of the 'hair of the dog that bit you." Jake grinned. "I got a bottle in the car if you care for little snort?"

"No way, I think I've had enough of that dog for a while." Renee laughed as a sharp pain hit him between the eyes.

"Well, okay, don't say I never offered. Damn beautiful morning 'til this floater turned up." Jake finished up with his picture taking. "Well, that's 'bout all I can do right now. I'll have more information once I get him back to my office. I'll do an autopsy as soon as I can. I can guarantee you he didn't die of natural causes," Jake coughed. "Damn cough, my wife says I'm goin' to cough a lung up one of these days if I don't give up these cigars. Shoot, I told her it's the only fun I have left...that is... other than my job," Jake smirked.

"Well, Jake, I guess she loves you," Renee beamed.

"Damn right about that. Sometimes loves me damn near to death with her nagging." Jake
took another long pull on his cigar.

"How long will it take before you have something for me?"

"Oh, I guess I can do it today...come by this afternoon and I should have some information for you." Jake blew out a fragrant cloud.

"Thanks, you're a good man."

"No, just doing my job. This poor sucker is in bad shape. Smells pretty ripe. Maybe in the water a few days. Looks like the alligators and crabs had a feast."

"I don't even like to think about it. I'll come by your office this evening for the autopsy. Deputy Mark and Robert you'll need to stay here at the pier and keep this area corded off." Renee then turned to face the shrimper that found the body.

"Mr. Martin, about what time did you find him?"

"Early dis morning. We pulled up a load of shrimps and I sees somethin' in the net. First, I couldn't tell what we had. Den when we dumped it on the deck...I could tell it were a person. I tell you, sheriff, it 'bout made me lose my mornin' boudin. That smell and dem arms and legs torn right off. I seen a lot of things on dis bayou but never dis bad."

"You stated on the phone this morning you pulled him up in your net out of Gator Bayou?"

"Yes, that right. We was not having no luck on Bayou Blue...so's we takes a chance and goes over to 'Gator Bayou. Dat's one witchy place I tells you. Folk's rounds here says it has a curse. I don't 'member de whole story but most folk's stays out of dere. I'm not afraid of no Gris Gris. Just a lot of Voodoo tales. Fog dis morin' rising up so thicks I coulds barely sees my own hand. Den when we pulled up dat first net...dare he was. Lordy mercy."

"Thanks ,Mr. Martin, come down to the station sometime today or tomorrow and fill out a complete report. Meanwhile, the less you talk about this around town the better. We'll have to find out who he is and notify his family."