The Fiercest Enemy Read online

  They were talking about a drunken, possibly drugged young man that made horrible life decisions. No matter what his dad thought, Troy Junior could have gotten a ride from Rosie’s that night, gone to the stripper pit and been killed. Maybe Troy Junior was more into drugs than his dad thought. He might have been cheating his supplier and they tore his place up searching for their product or money. But why not call from the stripper pit and leave the phone and clothes there? If they wanted it to look like another accidental drowning they’d screwed the pooch. But they’d been so adept at the other scenes, maybe this one wasn’t a screw up. Maybe there was a good reason for cocking the scene up. He’d have to find them to ask them.

  “Can you think of any reason someone would want to search Troy’s place?” Jack asked.

  “Search for what?” Jerrell asked. “I know what the autopsy results were, but that boy was not on drugs or selling drugs. He drank more than he should and I take the blame for a lot of that. What about his truck? It’s four miles or more between Rosie’s and his place. How did the truck get out to Rosie’s?

  “Troy was such a slob. My crime scene guys didn’t find anything to indicate he was killed there. Maybe he left with whoever it was, or never even got home from the bar. Maybe the killer came here to see if he had any valuables laying around,” Jerrell suggested.

  “Just getting things clear in my head,” Jack said. “A lot of what you just told me isn’t in the file.”

  “It’s in my file,” Jerrell said.

  “Which file is that?” Jack asked.

  “What? You never keep anything to yourself?”

  “The detective part of me says, hell yeah. The fed side denies everything and wants a lawyer.”

  Jerrell chuckled. “You got issues. You know that?”

  “So, I’m told. Let’s see what Rinnie has found.”

  Jack was grateful to see Rinnie was wearing a muzzle. Rusty pointed to a copse of evergreen trees south of the Jeep and said, “There’s a camp fifty feet in.” The ground there was thick with scrub.

  Rusty stayed behind while Jerrell and Jack made their way down the gravel incline to a spot where the wild blackberry bushes and scrub brush were trampled down to a narrow path, maybe a deer trail. They took the trail and came to a tall pine tree where pine needles were gathered into a thick mat. Someone had slept there. Jack wasn’t much of a tracker but even he knew that deer didn’t gather material for a bed.

  There was a scorched area where more of the pine needles and small twigs had been swept or scraped into a small pile and burned. Jack held his hand above it. It was still warm. Someone had been there recently. It looked like someone had attempted to smother the fire with a couple of handfuls of earth. There were scrape marks in the soil nearby where they had dug, possibly with their hands. He pointed it out to Jerrell. “DNA?”

  “My Crime Scene unit is coming. I’ll tell them to collect some of the soil. The Jeep was abandoned right over there,” Jerrell said. “Maybe this is our guy. Maybe we’re close to the bastard.”

  “Maybe,” Jack said. In his gut he didn’t believe it. This was too obvious. Almost as if they were meant to find the fire. He had thought that they may never have found the Jeep if not for Rosie but now he thought Rosie had been meant to see the Jeep. But why? The Dugger Lake scene had been swept by several policemen this morning and the killer still got the drop on Shaunda and got away. He was changing his modus operandi. That was never a good thing.

  Jerrell squatted and stared into the blackened mess. He took out an ink pen and dragged it through the ashes until it struck something. “What have we got here?”

  Chapter 22

  Jerrell had found a long cylindrical metal object buried in the ashes of the fire. His Crime Scene techs identified it as a carbide tipped drill bit used in coal mining. It weighed two pounds, was tapered to a point at one end and was thick at the other. It was at least twelve inches long and the surface was rough and worn.

  Jerrell had Crime Scene bag the drill bit but he signed a chain of custody form and took possession. They walked back to the Coal Miner Bar. Jack’s Crown Vic was parked in front and Liddell and Shaunda were back.

  “You thinking what I’m thinking?” Jerrell asked.

  “It definitely could be the weapon,” Jack said. “Are you taking it to the coroner?” It was the right size and shape to have inflicted the wounds on both Brandon and Shaunda. The coroner would be able to say whether the drill bit could have made the abrasions, but it would take laboratory tests to determine if it had been used in any of the other murders.

  “I saw the marks on my boy’s head. It matches. I’ll call you in a bit. Tell Shauny what we found.”

  “Do you want us to meet you at the morgue? I’d like to be there for Brandon’s autopsy.”

  Jerrell said, “I’ll find out what’s going on. Come on when you’re ready. Bring Shauny if she feels like coming. Personally, I think she should take some sack time. She’s had one hell of a week and she might have a concussion to boot.”

  Jerrell got into his truck, peeled out in the gravel and disappeared inside a plume of dust. Jack went inside. Liddell and Shaunda were talking to Rosie. The door that led up to the rooms was open and Jack could hear the girls and Sergeant Ditterline chatting. Pen was saying, “You have to do whatever we say.” Sergeant Ditterline said, “I don’t think so. I’m the adult here.”

  When Jack heard both girls giggling he knew who the real bosses were.

  “We talked to Claire,” Liddell said. “Shaunda’s constable was still there. She’s pretty messed up. She didn’t even ask about the Jeep. Where’d Chief Jerrell go tearing off to?”

  “He’s going to check on things in Linton and make arrangements for the Jeep to be processed.”

  “Shaunda said it was definitely Brandon’s Jeep,” Rosie said.

  “It was,” Jack said. “You’ve got good eyes.”

  “Why, Agent Murphy, more than my eyes are good.”

  Jack felt his face reddening. She held his eyes until he blinked.

  “How about it?” she asked.

  Jack cleared his throat. “How about what?”

  She smiled. “We were talking about having dinner.”

  Liddell said, “I wouldn’t turn down something to eat.”

  “No fooling,” Jack said. “Jerrell’s going let us know when the autopsy is scheduled. We need to be there. The K-9 found a campsite close to the Jeep. Someone had made a fire and it was still warm. Jerrell found an old mining tool in the ashes that might’ve been used as the weapon.”

  “What kind of tool?” she asked.

  He described it holding his hands a foot apart. “It was heavy.”

  Shaunda gently touched the back of her head and winced.

  Rosie put an arm around Shaunda’s shoulders and hugged her. “Poor baby.”

  “It only hurts when I breathe,” Shaunda said.

  “I’m not talking about you. I’m talking about the asshat that hit you. If you don’t kick his butt I’m going to.”

  Shaunda hugged Rosie back. “My protector. What would I ever do without you?”

  “We’re not ever going to find out. Come on. Let’s eat before you all rush off. The food is already made and you’ll hurt my feelings if you don’t say yes. Besides, I want to hear everything.”

  “She’s a CSI Miami fan,” Shaunda said.

  Rosie yelled up the stairs, “Dinner. Get down here or I feed it to the pigs.” She looked sheepishly at them and said, “You know what I mean, right?”

  Liddell grinned. “You can call me anything you want as long as food is involved.”

  “Okay. A quick bite and then we head to Linton. Jerrell’s expecting us,” Jack said.

  “You want to give me a hand?” Rosie asked, and Shaunda followed her into the kitchen.

  Liddell walked around the bar room
admiring the antique pieces of mining equipment mounted on the walls and hanging from the ceiling. Hard hats, kerosene lamps, sledgehammers and pickaxes, interspersed with framed photos of mines and miners and coal trains and the monstrous hulks of bucket trucks. A deep wooden frame on one wall held several mining drill bits of the kind Jack had described. “Was it like these?”

  Jack came over and stood by him. “It narrowed down like that one,” he said and pointed to one of the bits. “It wouldn’t take much strength to lay someone low with one of those.”

  “Marcie would just love this place,” Liddell said. “There’s a lot of history right here.”

  “Yeah. It’s right out of the 30s,” Jack agreed. “Makes me feel like yelling “FIRE IN THE HOLE!”

  “You think Katie would like to stay here?”

  “Katie likes ‘romantic getaways’ which translates to far away from home and far too expensive.” Jack didn’t care for driving twelve hours to sit on a beach with a horde of strangers. He had a twenty-five-foot cabin cruiser and a fishing cabin equipped with all the comforts of home. He liked places that were familiar. Places where he always knew where a gun was within reach.

  “With a baby on the way, and the wedding bells due to be ringing, you’d better get some traveling in,” Liddell said. “Marcie didn’t want to leave the house for a month after Janie was born. She was on alert all the time and neither of us got much sleep. Then we got used to the routine and broke chores up.”

  “Did that help?” Jack asked.

  “We still don’t get much sleep.”

  “I’ll tell you something, Bigfoot, but you have to keep it to yourself.”

  “I’m the soul of discretion pod’na.”

  “I’m taking Katie to Maui for our wedding and honeymoon,” Jack said. “The resort where I booked calls it a ‘wedding-moon’. It’s all inclusive, flights, transportation to and from the resort, food, drinks entertainment, more drinks and they threw in a rental car.”

  Liddell was uncharacteristically quiet.

  “I thought you’d be excited for us,” Jack said.

  “Oh, I’m excited for you. Not so much for me. Now Marcie will expect me to take her somewhere tropical? When are you going?”

  “Next month,” Jack said. “Whether we’re finished here or not.”

  “Does Katie know?”

  “It’s going to be a surprise.”

  “You’re going to elope. Just going to tell her to pack, take her to the airport, fly over an ocean, and say ‘Surprise!’”

  “I’ll think of something,” Jack said.

  Liddell shook his head. “She’s got the wedding plans in full swing. Marcie’s the maid of honor. I thought I was your best man.”

  “You’re a nice enough guy, Bigfoot, but I wouldn’t go so far as to say the best. Besides, I have to pay for the catering. I’d have to rent the whole luau to feed you.”

  “Won’t she suspect something when you don’t start doing ‘groomly’ things?”

  “That’s part of the surprise. We won’t need to plan the wedding anymore. Part of the wedding-moon package is getting married on the beach. There’s a short pier with a gazebo on the ocean. Very private. Just us, a minister, a string quartet, the moon and stars.”

  “You said there’s a short pier at least so you can take a long walk off of it. I can’t believe you’re not going to have your big day here where your family can congratulate you and your buddies can castigate you and tie you naked and drunk to a light pole.”

  “I want to keep this low key. We’ve already been married once. This time it will be just us. We’ll send you a postcard. ‘Having a great time. Wish you were here.’ That kind of crap.”

  “You really think Katie will go along with this?”

  “I’ve already made most of the arrangements. I’ve got a travel guide setting up some romantic dinners, cruises, a glass bottom boat, snorkeling, even a little sub that takes us along a reef. We’ll tour some of the smaller islands by Jeep. Shops, clothes, trinkets. I’ve got all the bases covered. It’s romantic. It’s far away and it’s expensive.”

  “Well, you get to tell Marcie. She’ll be thrilled to not be at your wedding. In fact, Janie will probably be upset too. This is all on you pod’na. I’m not touching it with a ten foot pole.”

  Jack said, “I saw this package and called them. I already worked out tickets, resort fees, cars, meals, wedding venue, the whole nine yards. I can’t get my deposit back.”

  Liddell’s eyes grew wide. “You said cars. Plural. Does that mean…?”

  “Yeah. You should have seen your face. I’m pulling your big foot. If Katie doesn’t kick the plan to the curb I was hoping you and Marcie—Janie, too, of course—would be the maid of honor and best man. You can dress Janie up like a maid of honor. My treat.”

  Liddell didn’t speak and turned his head away.

  “What?” Jack asked. “I thought you’d be happy.”

  Liddell wiped at his eyes with the back of one big arm.

  “Are you crying? You big sissy.”

  “I’m just…I just don’t know what to say.”

  “Say you’ll be on my side when the poop hits the fan,” Jack said. “I might need to sleep in your basement.”

  “You just surprised me pod’na. You’re a true romantic. We’ll need a suite and a crib…”

  “And you’ll need vacation days from work,” Jack finished the thought. “I’ve already cleared the time with Captain Franklin for both of us. I was going to tell you this morning but we got stuck on this case. Keep it under your hat until this thing over.”

  “Yeah. You might not need to sign invitations.”

  “She’ll be excited.” He hoped she’d be excited in a good way.

  “She’ll have to see her doctor to see if she can fly at this stage of the pregnancy,” Liddell said.

  “I forgot. I guess I will have to tell her sooner than later.”

  “Let’s eat and I’ll forget all about what you said that I didn’t hear,” Liddell said.

  “I think we can have one drink with our meal. To celebrate. Who’s going to arrest us?” Jack said.

  Liddell pointed up with one finger and mouthed the words, “There are spies everywhere.”

  “Don’t be paranoid, Bigfoot. Angelina can’t really do all that stuff.”

  “Don’t bet on it, pod’na. She’s like George Orwell’s big brother character in that book.”

  Rosie and Shaunda came out of the kitchen carrying oversized serving trays. On one was a carafe of coffee and coffee mugs, soft drinks, tumblers of ice, plates and utensils. On the other tray was a gigantic bowl of spaghetti with fist sized meatballs, a platter of toasted garlic bread and a shaker of Parmesan cheese. The trays were set on one round table and the plates around another table.

  Rosie said, “Dig in.”

  Rosie went behind the bar and brought a bottle of Glenmorangie whisky to the table.

  “No liquor for us sadly. We’re on duty,” Jack said.

  “You think those drinks are for you? Cripes! The scotch is for me and our wounded warrior. Who’s going to arrest her?”

  “Not us,” Jack said. “Someone tried to kill her today. Maybe I should taste her drink before she does?”

  “Nice try.” Rosie popped the tops on two soft drinks and sat them in front of the men.

  “Are the others eating with us?” Jack asked.

  “I took a platter up to them. Ditty will eat with the girls,” Rosie said.

  “What’re we having for dessert?” Liddell asked.

  “Carrot cake with sour cream topping, or a hot fudge walnut brownie with ice cream,” Rosie said.

  “I’ll have both. I’m counting my caloric intake.”

  “How’s that going,” Shaunda said and patted Liddell’s gut.

  She was smiling.


  They loaded their plates and Rosie said, “The girls are upstairs. Tell me what you’re going to do.”

  Jack took a sip of his Coca Cola and eyed the Glenmorangie. “This is good.”

  “Talk about the murders. The suspense is killing me,” Rosie said.

  “First, we pray,” Shaunda said. Both women lowered their heads and said the Lord’s Prayer. Coffee was poured and they all dug in. Rosie picked at her food while Shaunda attacked her meal as if it was the enemy. When they were finished eating Rosie brought out dessert, thick slices of warmed carrot cake dripping frosting. Shaunda and Liddell devoured what was on their plate and got seconds. Jack was used to the carnivorous atmosphere from Bigfoot, but he was surprised that Shaunda packed away as much. Rosie had tried to make conversation several times but Shaunda shut her up with a look.

  Liddell pushed his dessert plate away and gave a satisfied sigh.

  Jack said, “Everything was excellent Rosie,” and reached for his wallet.

  She put her hand over his. “Food is included with the room. Don’t act so surprised. I’m a very good cook.”

  Shaunda belched her agreement, patted her stomach and smiled at Liddell.

  Jack said, “That was probably the quietest meal I’ve had in a long time.”

  Shaunda said, “If you’re going to talk—talk. If you want to eat—eat.”

  Rosie said, “Shaunda was raised with wolves.”

  “Bite me Rosie,” Shaunda said, causing Liddell to give Jack a grin.

  “They sound like us, pod’na. You just sit there picking at your food being all grumpy and thoughtful while I eat.”

  “I don’t do that,” Jack said.

  Rosie smiled at him. “That’s what Shaunda says I do, too.”

  Liddell nudged Jack’s arm. “See. Twins.”

  “Bite me Bigfoot.”

  “He calls you Bigfoot?” Shaunda asked.

  “I came up here from Iberville Parish Louisiana,” Liddell said. “I worked a Sheriff Patrol Boat in the swamps and bayous.”