Chapter One
Private investigator Nick Cain drove slowly down the main street of the small town of Black Bayou, Louisiana. It was his first opportunity getting a look at the place where he’d be living and working for at least the next three months or longer if necessary.
His first impression was that the buildings all looked a bit old and tired. However, in the distance the swamp that nearly surrounded the town appeared to breathe with life and color. And it was in the swamp he believed he would do much of his investigation. At the very thought of going into the marshland, a wave of nervous energy tightened his stomach muscles.
He’d been hired by Chief of Police Thomas Gravois to assist in the investigation of four murdered woman. Apparently, a serial murderer was at play in the small town. He would work as an independent contractor and not as a member of the official law enforcement team.
Before he checked in with Chief Gravois, he needed to find the place he’d rented for his time here. It was Gravois who had turned him on to the room for rent in Irene Tompkin’s home. Irene was a widow who rented out rooms in her house for extra money.
Once he turned on to Cypress Street, he looked for the correct address. He found it and pulled into the driveway. The widow Tompkin’s home was a nice, large two-story painted beige with brown shutters and trim. An expansive wraparound porch held wicker furniture and a swing that invited a person to sit and enjoy. The neighborhood was nice with well-kept lawns and older homes.
He decided to introduce himself first before pulling out all his luggage so he got out of the car, walked up to the front door and knocked. The early September sun was hot on his back as he waited for somebody to answer.
A diminutive woman with a shock of white hair and bright blue eyes opened the door and her wrinkled face wreathed with a friendly smile. “Even though you’re a very handsome young man, I’m sorry but I’m not buying anything today,” she said.
“That’s good because I’m not selling anything. My name is Nick...”
“Oh, Mr. Cain,” she replied before he had even fully introduced himself. “I’ve been expecting you.” She grabbed his hand and tugged him over the threshold. “I’m so glad you’re here. It’s such an honor for you to stay in my home and the town needs you desperately. Let me show you the room where you’ll be staying.” She continued to pull him toward the large staircase. “How was your trip here?”
“It was fine,” he replied, and gently pulled his hand from hers as he followed her up to the second floor.
“Good...good. I baked some cookies earlier. I thought you might want a little snack before you get to your detective work.” They reached the top of the stairs and walked down a short hall, and then she opened a door and gestured him to follow her inside.
The bedroom sported a king-size bed, a dresser and an en suite bathroom. The beige walls complemented the cool mint-green color scheme. There was also a small table with two chairs in front of the large window that looked out on the street and a door that led to an old iron fire escape staircase to the ground.
“Is this okay for your needs?” She turned to look at him, her blue eyes filled with obvious apprehension.
He smiled at her. “This is absolutely perfect.” It was actually far better than he’d expected. His main requirement was that the place be clean, and this space screamed and smelled of cleanliness.
“Oh good, I’m so glad. Well, I’ll just leave you to get settled in and then we can have a little chat?”
“Of course,” he replied.
She scurried out of the room and he followed after her. At the foot of the stairs, she beelined into another area of the house and he went outside to retrieve his luggage.
Within thirty minutes he was unpacked. He went back downstairs and stood in the entry. “Mrs. Tompkin,” he hollered.
She appeared in one of the doorways and offered him another bright smile. “Come,” she said. “I’ve got some cookies for you and we can have a little chitchat about house rules and such.”
The kitchen was large and airy with windows across one wall and a wooden table that
sat six. She ushered him into one of the chairs. In the center of the table was a platter of what appeared to be chocolate chip cookies.
“Would you like a cup of coffee?” she asked.
“That sounds nice,” he replied.
“It’s so easy now to make a cup of coffee with this newfangled coffee maker,” she said as she popped a pod into the machine. She then reached on her tippy-toes and pulled a saucer from one of the cabinets and carried it over to the table.
“You have a very nice place here,” Nick said.
She beamed at him as she placed three cookies on the saucer and then set it before him. “Thank you. Me and my husband, Henry, God rest his soul, were very happy here for a lot of years. He passed five years ago from colon cancer.”
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” he replied.
“It’s okay now. I know he’s up in heaven holding a spot for me. And that reminds me, there’s no Mrs. Tompkin here. Everyone just calls me Nene.”
“Then Nene it will be,” he replied.
“I just thought we needed to chat about how things go around here. I have one other boarder. His name is Ralph Summerset. He’s a nice man who mostly stays to himself. He’s retired from the army and now works part-time at the post office. Cream or sugar?” she asked as she set the cup of coffee in front of him.
“Black is just fine,” he replied.
She sat on the chair opposite him and smiled at him once again. Nick would guess her to be in her late seventies or early eighties, but she gave off much younger vibes and energy.
“Anyway, I provide breakfast anytime between six and eight in the mornings and then I cook a nice meal at around five thirty each evening. If you’re here, you can eat, but if you aren’t here, I don’t provide around-the-clock services.”
“Understandable,” he replied. Even though he wasn’t a bit hungry at the moment, he bit into one of the cookies.
“I usually require my guests to be home by ten or so, but I’m making an exception for you.” She reached into the pocket of the blue housedress she wore and pulled out a key. “I know with your line of work, your hours are going to be crazy, so take this and then you can come and go as you please. Just make sure when you come in you lock up the door behind you.”
“Thank you, I appreciate that.” He took the key from her and then finished the cookie and took a sip of his coffee. He was eager to get to the police station and find out just what he was dealing with, but he also knew it was important to build relationships with the locals. And that started here with Nene.
He picked up the second cookie. “These are really delicious,” he said, making her beam a smile at him once again.
“I enjoy baking, so I hope
you like sweets,” she said.
“I definitely have a sweet tooth,” he replied. “And I’m sorry, but two cookies are enough for me right now.” He took another drink of his coffee.
“I hope you’re good at detecting things because these murders that are taking place are frightening and something needs to be done to get the Honey Island Swamp Monster murderer behind bars.”
“Honey Island Swamp Monster?” He gazed at her curiously, having not heard the term before.
“That’s what everyone is calling the murderer,” she replied.
“And who or what is the Honey Island Swamp Monster?”
She leaned forward in her chair, her eyes sparkling like those of a mischievous child. “Legend has it that he was an abandoned child raised by alligators. He’s supposed to be over seven feet tall and weighs about four hundred pounds. He has long dirty gray hair and golden eyes, and he stinks to high heaven.”
Nick looked at her in disbelief. “Surely nobody really believes that’s what killed those women.”
Nene leaned back in her chair and released a titter of laughter. “Of course not.” The merriment left her face as she frowned at him. “The sad part is now you got town people thinking somebody from the swamp is responsible and the swamp people think somebody from town is responsible and our chief of police seems to be clueless about all of it.”
She reached across the table and grabbed one of Nick’s hands. “All that really matters is that there’s somebody out there killing these poor young women and the rumors are the killings are horribly savage. I really hope you can help us, Mr. Cain.” She released his hand.
“Please, make it Nick,” he replied as he tried to digest everything she’d just told him. He’d learned over the years not to discount any piece of information he got about a particular crime. Even rumors and gossip had a place in a criminal investigation.
She smiled at him again. “Then Nick it is,” she said. “Anyway, Nick, I read a lot of romance books and you look like the handsome stranger who comes to town and not only saves the day but also finds his one true love. Do you have a one true love, Nick? Is there somebody waiting for you back home?”
“No, I’m pretty much married to my job.”
“Well, that’s a darned shame,” she replied. “Now don’t make me stop believing in my romances.”
“I’m sorry, but I’m definitely no romance hero,” he replied. His ex-wife would certainly agree with his assessment of himself. Three years ago, Amy had divorced him because he wasn’t her hero. At that time, he’d permanently written love out of his life.
His work was what he could depend on and thinking of that, he rose to his feet and grabbed the house key from the table. “If we’re finished here, I really need to get to the police station and get to work.”
“Of course, I didn’t mean to hold you up as long as I have.” She got out of her chair and walked with him to the front door. “I hope to see you for dinner, but I’ll understand if you can’t make it. I know you have important work to do so I won’t delay you any longer.”
They said their goodbyes and Nick got back in his car to head to the police station. As he drove toward Main Street, he thought about Nene and the conversation he’d just had with her.
His impression of his landlady was that she was a sweet older woman who was more than a bit lonely. He had a feeling if he would have continued to sit at the table, she would have been perfectly satisfied talking to him for the rest of the afternoon.
With his living space sorted out he could now focus on the reason he was here. When he’d seen the ad in the paper looking for help in solving a series of murders, he had definitely been intrigued.
He’d spent years working as a homicide detective in the New Orleans Police Department. He’d won plenty of accolades and awards for his work and he’d labored hard on putting away as many murderers as possible. However, two years ago he’d decided to quit the department and open his own private investigation business, but that certainly hadn’t meant he was done with killers.
When he’d reached out to Thomas Gravois, the man had told him about the four young women from the swamp who had been brutally murdered by the same killer, but he hadn’t said anything about fighting between the swamp people and town people. In fact, Nene had given him more information about the crimes than Gravois had.
Still, that didn’t matter. Gravois had hired him over a phone call after seeing all of Nick’s credentials. Nick was now more intrigued than ever to get a look at the murder books and see where the investigations had gone so far and what kind of “monster” he was dealing with.
He didn’t know if his fresh eyes and skills could solve these murders, but he’d give his all to see that four murdered women got the justice they deserved.
SARAH BEAUREGARD SAT at the dispatch/reception desk in the police office lobby and drummed her fingernails on the top as nervous energy bubbled around in the pit of her tummy.
She’d been working for the police department since she was twenty-one years old and for the past twelve years Chief Gravois had kept her either on desk duty or parked just off Main Street to hand out speeding tickets.
Over those years she’d begged him to allow her to work on any of the cases that had come up, but he’d refused. She had just turned twenty-one when her parents had been killed in a head-on collision with a drunk driver.
She’d been reeling with grief and loss and Gravois, who had been close friends with her father, had taken her under his wing and hired her on as a police officer. However, his protectiveness toward her on the job had long ago begun to feel like shackles meant to hold her back from growing as an officer.
Until now...once again butterflies of excitement flew around inside her. She stared at the front door, waiting for her new partner to walk in.
She frowned as fellow officer Ryan Staub walked up and planted a hip on her desk. “So, the little lady is finally going to get to play at being a real cop,” he said.
“First of all, I’m not a ‘little lady’ and second of all you’re just jealous because I got the plum assignment of working with the new guy on the swamp
murders.”
His blue eyes darkened in hue. “I can’t believe Gravois is letting you work on that case. He must have lost his ever-loving mind.”
“He’s finally allowing me to work up to my potential,” she replied firmly. “Besides, you already worked the cases and nothing was solved. And get your butt off my desk.”
Ryan chuckled and stood. “Why don’t you go out with me for drinks on Friday night?”
She looked up at the tall, handsome blond man. “How many times do I have to tell you I’m not going out with you? I’ve told you before, I find you impossibly arrogant and you’re a womanizer and you just aren’t my type.”
He laughed again. “Oh, Sarah, I just love it when you sweet-talk me.” He leaned down so he was eye level with her. “Do you want to know what I think? I think you have a secret crush on me and you’re just playing hard to get.”
Sarah swallowed against a groan of irritation. “Don’t you have something better to do than bother me?”
He straightened up. “Yeah, I’ve got some things I need to get to.”
“Feel free to go get to them,” Sarah replied tersely. She released a sigh of relief as Ryan headed down the hallway toward the room where all the officers had their desks.
She and Ryan had known each other since they were kids, but it was just in the last month or so that he’d decided she should be his next conquest. And he’d already had plenty of conquests with the women in town.
At thirty-three years old, she had no interest in finding a special man. She’d thought she’d found him once and that romance had gone so wrong. Still, if she was looking, Ryan would be the very last man on earth she would date.
At that moment the front door whooshed open and a tall, handsome hunk of a man walked in. She knew in an instant that it was him...the man Gravois had hired to come in and help investigate the four murders that had taken place.
She’d read his credentials and knew he had been a highly respected homicide detective with the New Orleans Police Department. His black hair was short and neat and his features were well-defined. A black shirt stretched across his broad shoulders and his black slacks hugged his long, lean legs. Definitely a hunk, and her new partner.
He approached her desk and offered a brief smile. Not only were his twilight-gray-colored eyes absolutely beautiful, but he also had thick, long dark lashes. “Hi, I’m Nick Cain, and I’m here to see Chief Gravois.”
“Of course, I’ll just go let him know you’re here.” She got up from the desk and headed down the hall to Chief Gravois’s office.
It really made no difference to her that Nick Cain was a very handsome man. What she was most eager about was diving into the murder cases and perhaps learning something from the far more experienced detective turned private investigator.
She knocked on the chief's
door and heard his reply. She opened the door and peeked inside. “He’s here.”
Gravois was a tall, fit man with salt-and-pepper hair and sharp blue eyes. “Get Shanks to sit on the desk and you bring him back here so I can talk to both of you at the same time.”
Once again, ...
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