Going Home (The Green Bayou Novels Book 1) Page 16

  He aims his gun and fires a round into Jacob’s corner. Jacob’s body jerks, slides to the floor, and then lies completely still. My screams resonate through the camp house.

  “Don’t feel too bad, sweet Emily,” Kent says, grabbing the doorknob with his hand. “I was gonna do that anyway. You just sped up the process.”

  He slams the door and is gone, leaving me in a sea of fear, uncertainty, and despair. Once I finally manage to get my breathing under control, I listen to make sure Kent is actually gone. I can’t hear the boat engine anymore, so I assume he’s far away.

  “Jacob! Jacob! Please answer me, Jacob!” I yell. He just lies there, unmoving. I cry until I have no more tears.

  If Kent has arranged things the way he said, Pete could very well think that I have run off with Jacob. Pete knows our history and has gone so far as to ask several times if there was something going on between us. No one will come looking for me. I’m going to be forced to be Kent’s sex slave. I think of the desperation Sarah must have felt and understand how it got to the point of taking her own life. I roll into the fetal position and stare at the tattered, old couch. Things are more than grim; they’re downright hopeless.

  10

  PETE

  “What the hell happened to you? Why are you limping?” I grumble to Kent when we meet up in the locker room for shift change.

  “Oh, that? I pulled a groin muscle when I was working out yesterday. No big deal,” Kent answers as he slings his duffel bag into his locker.

  “Oh.” I could probe into it more, but his story will probably just be some sick tale of wild sex that I honestly have no interest in hearing at this point.

  “You need to worry a little less about me and more about yourself. You look like shit, dude. Get some sleep already,” Kent suggests.

  “I can’t,” I assert. “I have to find Emily. She hasn’t been heard from since leaving the hospital during her shift. I’ve put the word out that we need to bring in her old partner, Brad. The son of a bitch threatened her, even showed up at her house. I thought I’d handled it because nobody’s seen or heard from him since he was released from jail. I guess he was sitting back and planning his revenge. Damn it!” I punch the locker in front of me and welcome the throbbing pain. “He warned us he was going to get even, but I didn’t listen. Why the hell didn’t I listen?”

  I punch the locker again, this time drawing blood. Plopping on the bench, I rub my weary eyes. “Anyway, I’m heading back to the ambulance station to see if I can find anything that might tie him to this,” I say before slamming my locker door shut. “See ya.”

  “Wait, man. Give me a minute, and I’ll come with you. I might pick up on something you miss. You’re way too close to this thing. Consider it my way of apologizing further for the way I acted at your engagement party,” Kent insists.

  “All of that is water under the bridge, man. You’ve already apologized for that,” I reply.

  “Yeah, but I still feel bad about it.”

  I take a few seconds to mull it over. “Okay. You’re right. You might see something I miss. Let’s go. Call me on my cell, and I’ll fill you in on what I know.”

  As soon as we pull out of the sheriff’s department’s parking lot, my phone rings.

  “Talk to me,” Kent says as soon as I pick up.

  “I know Carter Melancon got to the station first. He said he found it empty. His partner, Joe Naquin, said he came in not long after Carter. Neither of them noticed anything strange or out of place, except that Emily and Jacob were gone. They said that all of Emily’s and Jacob’s stuff was missing from their bedrooms, and Jacob’s truck was gone. Emily’s car is still there. I feel in my gut that Emily wouldn’t leave such a sentimental gift behind. Her father restored that car for her. I brought the spare key from the house to see if I can find any clues in there.”

  “Got it,” Kent says as we pull into the Bienville station’s driveway. Carter and Joe meet us at the door.

  “Hey guys. Would it be okay if we look around?” Pete asks.

  “Sure, knock yourself out,” Carter answers. I search every bit of the station and find nothing, so I decide to go outside to Emily’s car.

  “You need some help?” Kent asks.

  “Nah, I got it.”

  He remains at the kitchen table talking with Carter and Joe. I open the car door and sit in the driver’s seat. It smells like her. I lower my head to the steering wheel and breathe in her scent. Worry consumes me. This is so unlike her.

  I pick up my head and glance over to the passenger seat, and my heart drops. There sits her engagement ring, and inside of it is a rolled piece of paper.

  Don’t bother trying to find us. We’ve loved each other for a long time, and we want to be left alone. Pete, please let us start our lives fresh.

  -Emily

  I lower the note, and anger rises in my gut. “No! No fucking way!”

  “What are you yelling about? Everything okay out here? Whoa, that sucks, man,” Kent says dryly as he looks down at the note. I quickly tuck it into my shirt pocket along with the ring.

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” I snap.

  “But dude…” Kent starts.

  “I said I don’t want to talk about it!” I say through gritted teeth. Filled with rage, I climb out of the car, and Kent takes a few steps back.

  “No prob, man. I’m out,” he says, limping back to his unit.

  I slam the door to the Camaro, climb inside my unit, and reach for my cell phone to punch in the numbers to Bert’s mobile. He answers on the second ring.

  “Is it true man?” he asks.

  “Yeah, but Bert, something’s not right with all this. Will you meet me at the western exchange point? I want to run some things by you.”

  “You know it. I’m on my way. See you in a few,” Bert says.

  I put the car into drive, and just because I’m feeling reckless, ram the accelerator to the floor. The car lurches forward, fishtailing while throwing my head against the headrest. I smack the steering wheel with my bruised fist and let off the accelerator.

  “I’ve got to get a grip, and I can’t keep beating the crap out of everything I see. They’ll pull me off the road, and then what good would I be to Emily? I need to focus,” I reason.

  It takes ten minutes to get to the exchange point, which is a deserted, run-down rest area situated where Bert’s coverage of the parish ends and mine begins.

  Before the interstate was built, Highway 182 used to get tons of traffic, especially during the summer when families were looking for fun on the water. Now, the area is easily bypassed, and the tourists are few and far between. Remnants of their visits dot the bayou side in the form of old rest areas and look-out points. It is the perfect place to exchange information without being interrupted or gawked at.

  Even though the sun has nearly set, I can tell Bert has left enough room for me to swing my car right next to his. He rolls his window down and waves. I get my unit as close to Bert’s as possible so we won’t have to yell at each other. Once my driver’s side window is even with Bert’s, I park and put down my window. Bert looks sympathetic, but remains quiet.

  “Bert, something’s not right.” I pull the note from my chest pocket and pass it to him. He studies it, his face scrunched so his eyebrows furrow.

  “I think Em’s great and all, but what makes you believe this isn’t for real?” Bert asks cautiously.

  “First of all, she wouldn’t do this to me.”

  Bert interrupts. “But you felt the same way about Sarah, Pete. Hell, you told me yourself that you weren’t totally sure about Jacob and Emily working together.”

  I shake my head from side to side. “I know. But that was when they first started working together. Jacob’s okay. There’s more than the note. Hear me out,” I insist.

  “Okay, what else is there?” Bert asks.

  “The note was shoved through this.” I hold up the engagement ring and its diamonds sparkle in the faint light being c
ast by the computer in Bert’s unit.

  “Wait!” Bert says with surprise, “Isn’t that her grandmother’s ring or something? Connie went on about how wonderful it was, blah, blah, blah… I don’t know, I quit listening after a while, but I do remember that part. Why would she leave that behind for you? It has nothing to do with you or your family.”

  “Exactly!” I exclaim. “Something isn’t right. None of this makes any sense.” Anxiety washes over me because every minute that passes pulls Emily further from my reach. “Help me find her, Bert. You’re the only person I trust. Hell, you’re the only person I want helping me. The department doesn’t need to be involved. We’ll do a better job finding her on our own.”

  “You’re probably right. Sure, I’m in. Whatever you want me to do, just name it,” Bert replies.

  “Remember to keep this between us for now. I’m going to fish around some more at the Bienville ESMR station. Would you mind checking out the hospital?” I ask.

  “On my way now. I’ll call if I get anything. And don’t worry, I’ll keep it quiet,” Bert says, putting the car into gear and speeding away. Half a second later, I’m right behind him, praying I find her soon, and praying even harder I find her alive.

  EMILY

  “Jacob, please.” I’m sobbing again. “Please wake up. Please… please be okay.”

  I desperately want to assess his condition, but every time I get within feet of him, the band secured around my ankle tightens in warning. If I keep pushing my luck, I’ll surely lose circulation to my foot.

  I look around the room and can’t find anything to reach Jacob. I drop to the floor and look under the bed where I find a fishing pole and large clumps of dust. The fishing pole can possibly be of use. I take the handle and stretch myself to the now familiar point that teeters on circulation cutoff. The tip of the pole reaches Jacob’s head, and I work extra hard to keep myself steady enough to get Jacob’s attention. I touch him with the tip of the pole, and he draws in a hard breath while scurrying into the corner. His eyes are wide with fear and pain.

  “Jacob! Jacob! Oh, god! It’s me! It’s Em! It’s Em! Kent’s not here!” I exclaim. “Please, try to relax.”

  It takes a few seconds for him to figure it all out, but eventually, he settles down. His right hand covers a blood-soaked hole in the left side of his abdomen.

  “How bad is it Jacob?” I’m scared to ask, but I need to know.

  “It’s pretty bad, Em. I don’t think it went all the way through,” Jacob winces. “Are you okay?” he asks, his eyes finally settling on my swollen and discolored face. I’m pretty sure Kent broke my cheek bone, but I don’t want to give Jacob anything else to worry about.

  “I’m okay. It looks far worse than it is,” I say with a smile, even though it hurts like hell. “Jacob, what can I do to help you?”

  “I don’t think there’s much you can do, sweetie.” he says.

  He’s right. What can I do? I hate the feeling of helplessness that washes over me.

  “Here, Jacob,” I say as I toss him one of my bottles of water. “It might not be much, but you need some fluids. You’ve lost a lot of blood.” The bottle rolls and bumps into Jacob’s leg.

  “No, Em. You keep it. You need to stay strong. We have to find a way to get you out of here. He wants me dead, but what he wants to do to you is far worse. When I saw him with you, I…” He stops short and turns his head away from me to look at the wall. After a few moments, he clears his throat and starts again.

  “We have to get you out of here. By the way, I’m sorry you were hit, but I want you to know you did a good job, girl! I wish you’d have bitten clean through his femoral artery. I can’t say I’d be sad to see the son of a bitch bleed out right in front of us. You’re quick to think, Emily Boudreaux. I’m glad I never had to face your wrath,” Jacob says weakly, the faint glimpse of a smile showing on his face.

  I try to smile back, but I throw my hand up and cover my aching cheek. “Ouch! Don’t make me laugh,” I say.

  Jacob coughs a few times then slumps back against the wall.

  “Will you do something for me?” he asks weakly.

  “Anything,” I answer honestly and without hesitation.

  “Please eat?” he pleads. He rummages through the grocery bag that sits next to him.

  “Jacob, you need your strength. You should have whatever’s in there,” I insist.

  “No, we both need our strength. I’m not in much of a position to fight. He’ll come back eventually, and when he does, he’s going to be more pissed off, and definitely more guarded. You’ll have to fight harder this time around,” he advises.

  I think about what he says, and a wave of panic rushes through me. I guess Kent’s injury might get me a couple of days at most. I need to come up with a plan.

  “So, I need you to eat,” Jacob insists.

  “Okay, but I’m not going to take all of the food,” I say, holding my ground. “We split everything.”

  “Fine. Have you always been this bossy?” he asks jokingly as he slides me two granola bars. He winces and grabs his stomach when he does so.

  “My mom says I get it from my dad.” A wave of sadness washes over me. I may never see my parents again. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, so I try not to think about it.

  Once I see that Jacob has settled back into his corner, I open the bars and finish them in about four bites. I had no idea I was that hungry! Jacob finishes his just as quickly.

  “Has it gotten dark outside yet?” I ask. Jacob looks at his watch.

  “Yep. Eight-thirty,” he answers.

  “Do you think he’ll come back tonight?” I shiver when I think of Kent’s return.

  “I doubt it, sweetie. You really put a hurting on him.” He tries to reassure me.

  “Yeah, I figure it’ll be at least a couple of days before he tries again.”

  “That’s pretty much what I was thinking,” Jacob says.

  I nod my head and look over to where he sits in the shadows.

  “You okay?” I ask.

  “I’ll be okay,” he assures me. “I’m just going to get a little rest.”

  “Okay,” I answer, “but please take the blanket tonight, Jacob.”

  “No way. You keep it.” I throw it to him anyway. He shakes his head and drapes the blanket around his shoulders. “So damn stubborn,” he mumbles.

  “And don’t you ever forget it, Mr. Templet!”

  Once I see that he’s somewhat situated, I try to get a little rest. I don’t want to be exhausted if I have to confront Kent.

  I do some quick mental assessments. He’s scheduled to work with Pete tonight. A single tear slides down my swollen cheek and is quickly joined by a steady flow. I try to remain silent, because I don’t want to upset Jacob. How did I get myself into this predicament?

  I begin to feel sorry for myself. Surely, Pete won’t think I ran off with Jacob. My concern is whether he’ll find us fast enough. I close my eyes and pretend I’m back at home, lying in his arms. My tears slow, and I’m finally able to sleep.

  PETE

  Neither Bert nor I have any luck finding leads. We’re brainstorming ideas at an abandoned gas station when the dispatcher announces that the sheriff wants to see me. It’s very strange for the sheriff to go into the office at night, much less request me specifically. My face goes pale as I acknowledge the dispatcher’s request. She’s been found, and the news isn’t good.

  “Pete, it might not be what you’re thinking,” Bert says, calmly as possible. “I’ll follow you to the station. Come on.”

  My heart races the entire trip to headquarters. The sympathetic face the dispatcher makes when she buzzes us through makes me even more anxious.

  “Jus’ go on down to his office, Pete. He’s waitin’ on ya,” Marla says. I find the sheriff slowly rocking in his semi-reclined chair. He looks a little confused when both of us walk into his office.

  “Hebert, I wasn’t expecting you,” he says, nodding towards Bert.
“Bergeron, have a seat.”

  The sheriff, wearing a polo shirt and jeans instead of the usual brown uniform, gestures toward the chairs in front of his desk.

  “I’d prefer to stand, sir,” I assert. The sheriff shrugs his shoulders and proceeds to rock back and forth in his office chair.

  “Suit yourself, son.” He calls all his deputies that. “I hear ya had another fiancée take off on ya. I’m beginning to think that ya just have bad luck when it comes to the ladies.” His Cajun accent seems thicker than usual. The older man rubs his finger across his eyelid a few times.

  My anger begins to return. “Sir, I don’t see…”

  Wanting to hear none of it, he holds up his hand. “Before ya found that note in her car, when her and her partner was just simply missing for shift change, we put out a notice to other departments to watch out for them. We got right on it because we didn’t want no repeats of last time. The detectives gonna be backing off now, son, ‘cause one of her old co-workers done seen them up in Jefferson going into some old restaurant by the airport.” I fight hard to not roll my eyes or huff, and my jaw begins to throb from keeping it clenched so tightly. This is exactly the reason Bert and I are doing our own investigation.

  “This person was supposedly there eating and said your girl specifically told him to call the department to say she was fine and all that. She didn’t want no one to find her ‘cause she don’t wanna be found. She didn’t want to call ya herself ‘cause she’s scared you’ll track her down and stop her. Son, they could be anywhere in the country by now.”

  The sheriff stops rocking and sits up straight, his tone gets very serious.

  I unset my jaw. “With all due respect, sir…” He holds up his hand to stop me yet again.