“This info, is it concerning the Labauves, or Jim’s murder?”

  “Both, and maybe the attack on Jim’s wife.”

  “Where do you want to meet?”

  “I believe it’s better if we meet somewhere private—away from the eyes of the law, so to speak.”

  “How about Lakefront Park?”

  “That sounds good. When can we meet?”

  “Dusk this evening?”

  “Fine.” She named a spot in the park where they could rendezvous and ended the call.

  ~ * ~

  I went over in my mind what I would say to whoever answered the phone at police headquarters. Hopefully Jack wouldn’t be the one. I punched in the number on my cell and waited for someone to pick up.

  “Cypress Lake Police, Riley.”

  “Chris, this is Susan Foret,” I said, hoping the nervousness I felt didn’t show in my voice.

  “Hey,” he said. “What can I do for you?”

  “I was wondering if Jim’s locker was cleared out along with all the items from his office.”

  His lack of immediate response made my stomach clinch. He might be suspicious. My call was so out of the blue.

  “Come to think about it, I honestly don’t know. His office got cleared out pretty quick. I couldn’t tell you who packed up his stuff. Are you missing something?”

  I pounced on the opening. “Yes, a special coffee cup the kids gave him for this past Father’s Day. Seems like his locker was number twelve.”

  He chuckled. “Number twelve is pretty beat up. It’s always the locker assigned to the last person hired. You know, the rookie.”

  “Angie?”

  “No way. Since she’s the only woman on the force, she was given a space of her own at the back of the locker room—all partitioned off with curtains for her privacy.” Sarcasm laced his voice. “I know where the chief’s locker was. If you hold on, I’ll go check it out.”

  “Thanks, Chris.”

  He returned to the phone a few minutes later. “LeBlanc’s already taken it over. There’s a big padlock on the door.”

  “I guess everything was removed,” I said with faux disappointment. “Thanks for checking for me.”

  “Sorry you couldn’t locate the cup,” Chris said. “Maybe it’ll show up later on.”

  “I hope so. Thanks again. Take care.” I ended the call and flopped down in my security blanket chair in shock.

  I couldn’t believe Toby Hahn had hit me over the head and put me in the hospital.

  Forty-five

  My brain couldn’t accept the fact Toby would be involved in hurting me or killing Jim. There had to be another possibility. Locker number twelve could belong to a sheriff’s deputy…like Ronnie Hart or any other deputy whose last name began with H. Maybe the number on the key wasn’t twelve. It could have been ten.

  The sound of a vehicle pulling in next door interrupted my thoughts. I walked to the window and looked out. Danny had returned.

  I informed the kids I would be next door and left the house. Danny must be tired of dealing with me and my adventures. But I felt we were nearing an end to our quest for justice.

  I figured my neighbors would be in their kitchen so I went around to the back door and peered through the small window. Rachel spotted me before I knocked and motioned for me to come inside.

  Danny looked exhausted and not at all happy to see me. Couldn’t say I blamed him.

  “I haven’t had a chance to look over the items you brought over.”

  “I know, but I wanted to give you more info.”

  Both he and Rachel seemed interested.

  “Did your plan work?” she asked.

  Danny gave me a cautious look. “What plan is that? Or should I ask?”

  “I remembered something else about the key. There was a number on it. I really thought it was twelve.”

  He looked perplexed. “And now you don’t?”

  “I phoned CLPD and spoke to Chris Riley. I made up a story about missing an item that should have been in Jim’s office and asked if his locker had been emptied. I told him I thought his locker was number twelve.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He laughed and said locker number twelve was always assigned to the last officer hired because it was banged up.”

  Danny raised his brows. “Angie?”

  “I asked if she used locker twelve.” I relayed what Chris told me about the special area created exclusively for her since she was the only female officer. “So that means Toby Hahn uses locker twelve.”

  “He was the last officer Jim hired before Angie?”

  I nodded. “It’s hard for me to believe he’s the one who struck me. I’m certain the number on the key was two digits.”

  Danny looked pensive as if mulling over my information. “I know you don’t trust CLPD in its present incarnation any more than I do, but there is one person over there I do have confidence in…Ken Wallace.”

  “Okay,” I said slowly.

  “Even though this piece of evidence hasn’t gone through an official chain of possession, I’m going to turn it over to him along with your thoughts about the locker number. He’s working on finding out who attacked you. I need to speak to him anyway about another issue.”

  I exchanged a curious look with Rachel. Her expression indicated she had no idea about the issue which Danny intended to talk over with Ken.

  “Keep in mind, even if Ken finds the owner of the key, this evidence will not be admissible in court,” he warned.

  My fault for not turning over the piece earlier. “Because of an unofficial evidence chain,” I said with disappointment.

  “Correct. A good defense attorney would claim the piece was planted.” Danny took his cell phone and went into another room out of earshot.

  Rachel stared after him for a long moment before she spoke. “I wonder if his business with Ken has anything to do with a meeting he has later this evening.”

  “Who’s he meeting with?”

  “He wouldn’t tell me.” She shrugged. “But then, he doesn’t always let me in on sheriff’s office business.”

  “Do you think his meeting has anything to do with Jim?”

  “I don’t know. If he’s discovered any new evidence he’ll tell me later. Please don’t mention I said anything.”

  “I won’t.” My hopes rose. At the same time, I worried about who this meeting was with and if Danny could be in danger.

  I knew Rachel was concerned from her anxious expression. Despite our age difference and the relatively short time I’d known her, she and I thought alike and our life experiences were eerily similar.

  Danny returned to the kitchen and remained standing. “Anything else you need to tell me?”

  I smiled. “Yes, but this is good information. Rick Hanson came to see me a few days ago. He’s no longer on my murder suspect list.” I told him the details of Rick’s visit.

  He laughed. “I’m glad you penciled him off the list.” He gave me a faux sheepish look. “There’s something I forgot to tell you. Last week I verified the whereabouts of both Hanson men at the time of Jim’s death.”

  My turn to laugh. “I guess you can be forgiven for your omission. You have a lot on your plate.”

  “What an understatement.” Rachel had a joking tone in her voice, but shot Danny a reprimanding look.

  “Ladies, is there anything else? Comments? Information?” He moved his gaze to Rachel and then to me.

  I shook my head. “However, there is something else I’d like to ask.”

  “What?”

  “Is there a deputy whose last name begins with H and uses locker twelve?”

  “I know of several deputies, but off hand I can’t confirm their locker numbers. Believe me, I intend to find out.”

  Forty-six

  At six o’clock Danny arrived at City Hall and entered CLPD headquarters. Jack LeBlanc’s office was empty. Guess the lazy fool is at home reading the Sunday paper. Fine by me. I don’t have to look at his sorry face.

  He nodded to Joe Hernandez who sat at the front desk. To the left of him Tony Messina, working dispatch, was speaking to another officer on patrol, but glanced in Danny’s direction. Toby Hahn at a nearby desk clicked away on his laptop, presumably writing up a report.

  Due to Wallace’s position as sergeant, he had his own office, in reality a cubicle with three walls, but the other lower ranked officers only had desks to use when not on patrol. He looked up as Danny approached.

  Danny handed him the envelope containing the key ring piece. Wallace opened the envelope and peered inside.

  “How do you want to work this?” Wallace asked in a low voice.

  “Susan found this today in the grass by her patio and turned it over to me.” He spoke in a much louder voice.

  Wallace reached into a drawer and pulled out a plastic zipper baggie and an evidence tag. He handed Danny a pen. “Fill this out.” He removed the key ring piece from the manila envelope and placed it in the plastic one.

  Danny completed the form, signed, and dated the evidence tag.

  Wallace attached the tag to the plastic baggie and then locked it in his desk drawer. “I’ll get this to the lab directly to see if we can get prints off this puppy.” He looked up at Danny. “So she thinks the locker number on the key was twelve?”

  “Yeah, but she’s having a hard time believing Hahn was her attacker.”

  “I can see her point,” Wallace remarked under his breath. In a louder voice, he added, “Some people can fool you.”

  “She’s second guessing herself about the number, but she’s positive it was two digits. I’m going to check our locker room roster and determine if there are any headquarters deputies whose last names begin with H that correspond to a two-digit locker number.”

  “I can tell you ours right now,” Wallace said. “The only two-digit numbers here are ten, eleven, and twelve. Hernandez is ten. Eleven is empty for the time being, but Toby’s due a decent locker since he isn’t the rookie any longer.”

  “But Hahn’s present locker is twelve?”

  “Right.”

  “Fred can check out the three other substations in the parish. I’ll leave him a message to do so tomorrow morning.” Danny met Wallace’s gaze and lowered his voice. “You up for what we talked about earlier?”

  “Definitely.”

  Danny checked his watch. “You know the plan for now.”

  Wallace nodded. “It’s a go.”

  Danny left CLPD for his office to leave the note for Fred, and then exited the building. He moved his vehicle from his designated spot in front of City Hall to the rear parking lot and waited.

  ~ * ~

  Wallace stayed in his office for about ten minutes after the sheriff left, before he strode over to Hernandez’ desk. “I’m heading out for a while. Be back later.”

  “I’ll be gone for the evening when Poche comes in for his shift. Should be anytime now.”

  “Lucky you.”

  “Sheriff Marchand brought evidence from the scene of Susan’s attack?” Hernandez appeared nonchalant, but looked to Wallace as though he might be holding his breath.

  “Yeah, he did. Susan found part of that key ring she saw lying on the ground.” He noted Hahn also seemed interested in their conversation.

  Hernandez changed the subject. “You must be working a split shift?”

  Wallace made a face. “Yeah, splits suck.”

  “Don’t I know it. I hate leaving here and then having to come back.”

  “That about sums it up. See you tomorrow, Joe.”

  Wallace walked to the door and stepped out into the hallway. He closed the door behind him, stopping for a brief time. Time would tell if either of them took the bait.

  Hard to believe Toby had anything to do with Susan’s attack. However, it had been his experience you never truly know a person’s intentions. An innocent baby-face could be a mask for something quite different.

  Hernandez was another story. The grapevine buzzed about Joe’s financial problems. He lost money big time at the casinos. Needing money was always a huge motivator to get involved in illegal activities.

  Wallace moved briskly down the hall past the open door of the sheriff’s office and made a covert glance inside. A cell phone’s personalized ring could be heard playing what sounded like the first line of a hit country western song. He spotted the phone’s owner, Curtis Tullier, as he answered the call.

  Tullier looked his way at that moment. Wallace waved at the deputy and headed toward the exit.

  A few minutes later, he slipped into the passenger seat of the sheriff’s truck. “Could be either one. Joe’s definitely worried. He asked about the evidence you brought in. I picked up a nervous vibe from him. Toby was interested, but he acted like he wasn’t paying attention, if you get my drift.

  “This might be a coincidence, but Curtis Tullier answered his personal cell phone just as I passed your office. The door was still open like you left it.”

  Danny nodded. “I doubt it’s a coincidence.”

  “I gather he’s on your radar for a possible connection to the drug business.”

  “You bet he’s on my radar for something illegal. I’m not sure what.”

  “So far, I have not been able to verify Hahn’s whereabouts at the time of Susan’s attack, or Hernandez’ either. Both were off duty at the time. Toby came on at the time I was heading up to the hospital to interview Susan. I asked him to accompany me. Thought he could use the experience.”

  “I wish we could’ve discovered this earlier…and discovered it on the scene at the time of the incident.”

  “Yeah, but what is is. I’ll figure out a way to get to the truth.”

  Danny eyed him for a long moment. “What do you know about an affair between Jim and Angie?”

  Wallace couldn’t believe his ears. “No way in hell. Where’d you hear that?”

  “Someone’s informant allegedly told him about it and he mentioned it to me.”

  “They would’ve had to be a lot more discreet than she and LeBlanc, if an affair ever happened at all. My guess is if there’s any truth to the story, she came on to Jim and he didn’t respond to her charm. She’s spreading the story.”

  Danny laughed with little enthusiasm. “That would be my assessment.”

  “Or else this somebody who told you was the one who had the affair.”

  “Bulldog, you and I sure do think alike.”

  Wallace grinned. Marchand seemed impressed with him, but he felt the sheriff still didn’t quite trust him completely, even with his question about this so called affair. He could understand the man’s caution, considering the situation. Only three CLPD officers besides himself hadn’t accepted the idea that Jim’s death was suicide.

  “The chief didn’t deserve to be shot down out there on the bayou,” he said. “Trying to make it look like suicide was an even lower blow. I hope you’ll let me work with you to make certain those bastards pay.”

  “It would be a privilege.”

  “I need to mention this, too. Three other officers came to me privately and expressed their suspicions about the chief’s death—Brad Theriot, Chris Riley, and Tony Messina.”

  “Thank God,” Danny said. “When we spoke earlier, I said there was something else you might be able to help me with.”

  “Sure, name it.”

  “A woman asked me to meet her so she could fill me in on some important information about the drug ring and possibly Jim’s killer. I don’t know whether she’s on the level or if I’m walking into a trap. I need someone I can trust to watch my back.”

  “Yes, sir. I’d be happy to.”

  Forty-seven

  At dusk, Danny turned into the entrance of the park and drove toward the area where he and Angie were to meet.

  With caution he approached a black SUV parked at the spot. Her personal vehicle? Then why was she in the passenger seat? At this point, he questioned the wisdom of not revealing to Wallace the identity of this informant, but was glad he had back-up in place.

  He pulled his truck into a parking space next to the SUV and waited with his hand on the butt of his gun for Angie to make the next move. When she exited her vehicle, he lowered his window.

  “Glad you decided to come,” she said. “You probably wondered if I was on the level, or if you would be walking into an ambush. Do you have back-up somewhere out there?”

  “I sure do.”

  “If your back-up is someone who knows me, I’ll be in danger.”

  Danny shrugged in an attempt to appear nonchalant. “You’ll have to take the chance.”

  She pursed her lips, clearly annoyed. “There’s someone with me you need to meet.”

  Danny frowned. Who the hell does she have with her?

  “Don’t worry. I promise you once we explain everything you’ll understand what’s going on.” She beckoned to the other occupant with her hand.

  The driver side door opened. A tall broad shouldered man wearing jeans and a short sleeve black tee-shirt stepped out. He sauntered over to Danny’s truck.

  “I’m Greg Howard with the FBI. Call this number and he’ll verify my identity.” He handed over a slip of paper with a phone number written on it."

  Danny punched in the number. The man on the other end identified himself as Special Agent Tyler and verified Howard’s identity. Danny wasn’t totally convinced yet. The guy on the other end of the line could’ve been anyone. He glanced at Angie.

  “Can we talk in your truck?” she asked.

  Let’s see how this plays out. He nodded and pressed the button to unlock the passenger side and the rear door of his double cab truck.

  Howard got in the front while Angie slipped into the rear seat and rested her arms on the back of the seat between Danny and the FBI agent.

  “Angie, are you also FBI?” Danny asked. “Is that your real name?”

  “My real name is Angie, but I’m DEA. Here’s my ID.” She passed the badge across the back of the seat for him to inspect.

  “Isn’t it dangerous for undercover operatives to carry identification on them?”

  “I don’t normally carry my ID. I brought it along in case you still had doubts. I wouldn’t want to be caught by the wrong people with the identification on me.”