The Jeep had taken the Causeway until the pavement ended, ensuring I was nowhere near the shore.
I kept the old bridge to my left and swam, dodging submerged trees and floating trash. My mind constantly screamed that I needed to go faster. It was only a matter of time before some behemoth from the deeps realized I was there and decided to investigate. I wasn’t scared of anything on land, at least I had some sort of chance there; but I was terrified of sharks. Suspended in the water, I could do little if something grabbed me and pulled me down.
My mind began to play tricks on me as I swam. I felt ghostly fins sweep past my legs and floating Styrofoam cups were alligator eyes sparkling in the moonlight.
I forced myself to keep going until my muscles ached and my lungs burned from exhaustion. The real and imagined threats in the water had to be ignored. If something presented itself, then I’d deal with it, but panicking would only ensure that I drowned.
I swam until my fingers sank into mud and I pulled myself wearily to the shore. My body collapsed on the bank and a massive coughing fit hit me. In between gasps for air, I heard sirens. The cavalry was on the way.
“I’m definitely not going to work tonight,” I groaned into the mud.
SIX: SUNDAY
I felt like crap.
Thankfully, officers from the Louisiana Department of Wildlife and Fisheries found me last night. Andi’s GPS coordinates were enough for them to zero in on where the Jeep went into the water and they had an entire rescue crew on hand, prepared for the worst, searching the shoreline.
Besides the loss of my car and coat, the paramedics said that the few contusions I’d suffered were minor and released me to Sergeant Drake, who’d arrived after Andi alerted him. I asked the game wardens to try to keep the information that I was alive off the net and restricted to direct, voice communication with their headquarters. Drake and I were now certain that the murders were related and somebody wasn’t above killing a cop to derail the investigation. The longer I could keep them thinking they’d succeeded in killing me, the better.
“Andi. Coffee,” I groaned into my pillow.
“Of course, Zach,” her artificial voice replied softly. “Do you want me to order breakfast tacos for you?”
My stomach clenched at the idea of food. I threw back the covers and sprinted into the bathroom, vomiting brown Lake Pontchartrain water into the toilet. “
Ugh
…”
I
really
felt like crap.
Probably all the shit in the water
.
A harsh beep came from the speaker above my head. The difference between the toilet computer’s normally soft chime meant that it obviously didn’t like what it saw. “Emesis test complete: Zachary Forrest, you have significantly elevated levels of Hexachlorobenzene and Dioxin in your stomach.”
I listened out of morbid curiosity as the toilet told me that I’d ingested substances that could kill me. “Both chemicals are known causes of cancer. There are also trace elements of Perchlorate, an oxidizer used in rocket fuel. Perchlorate is linked to limiting the intake of iodine in the thyroid gland. Zachary Forrest, you are very sick. You should seek medical attention immediately.”
I flushed the toilet. Rocket fuel and fertilizers.
Fucking lake water
.
“Andi, I don’t want any food; just the coffee.”
“Sure thing, boss. Are you sure you don’t want toast or something to help settle the fluids in your stomach?”
“Yeah, I’m sure,” I replied around the toothbrush I’d crammed in my mouth. It sounded more like “
schwoor
,” but I’d tweaked Andi’s speech recognition and voice patterning software so much over the years that she understood what I meant.
When I finished brushing my teeth, another coughing fit hit me and I stood wheezing in the bathroom with my hands on my knees.
“Zack, do you require assistance?” Andi asked, concern evident in her voice.
“No. It’s that powder from the airbags.”
“Sodium azide is a metabolic poison which works to interfere with the body’s ability to use oxygen.”
“Thanks,” I replied. “Is it gonna kill me?”
“It may, eventually. However, the most commonly reported health effect is low blood pressure. For inhalation exposure, expect irritation of the eyes and the mucous membranes of the respiratory tract, possible inflammation of the airways, and fluid buildup in the lungs. Headache, nausea with or without vomiting, abdominal pain, diarrhea, excessive thirst and loss of consciousness have also been reported.”
“I’m a ‘
go
’ at the vomiting part, thanks to the lake water. Do I need to go to the hospital?”
“With mild exposure, it is unlikely that you’ll need to go to the hospital. Caution should be used and the victim should be monitored for sudden changes in health. If this occurs, seek medical attention.”
“So…that’s a ‘no’?”
“I will continue to monitor you and alert emergency services if you get any worse.”
“Fine. But, before you call anyone, clear it through me. Unless I’m unresponsive, then go ahead and call.”
“Will do,” she replied, retreating to allow me the opportunity to shower in peace.
After a full ten-minute shower—usage bills be damned—I felt almost human again and the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafting from the kitchen was heavenly. I poured a cup and sipped lightly while I tried to clear my head so I could concentrate on the case.
A moment later, I said, “Andi, I need you to contact the insurance company. They’ll want a statement through the NOPD that the loss of the Jeep was in the line of duty.”
“On it,” she replied as I took a larger sip. “Okay, it’s done. I sent a query downtown to the headquarters to prepare a statement for you to provide to the insurance company. It’s Sunday, so they can’t get a signature until tomorrow, but an automatic line of accounting has been established to provide a rental car for you at no personal expense. Let me know when you’d like it delivered and it will arrive within thirty minutes.”
“Damn, you’re good.”
“That’s what I’m here for.”
“Give me a rundown on the computer hacker’s attempts since last night,” I said.
“There is nothing further to report, Zach. Once I went offline, the Jeep’s computer was hacked and further attempts on my systems ceased.”
I frowned. “That means the motherfucker was intent on killing me and could really care less about my files.”
“There is another possibility, Zach,” Andi stated. “It’s probable, given the remote location of the murder attempt and the known infestation of bull sharks and alligators in Lake Pontchartrain, the killer likely thinks you’re dead. He or she may be planning to come here in person to work at their own pace.”
“I had a hunch that he might do something like that, so I asked the game wardens to keep my rescue quiet… Andi, double external security scans and activate passive restraint systems. Any idea who this hacker might be?”
“No. Their data encryption is top-notch, rerouted through multiple switches and several continents. I followed a total of two hundred and sixteen trails; all of them ended at dead ends.”
“Shit, another wall. This guy is good,” I muttered. “Let me know the second anyone tries to poke around further.”
“Alright.” There was a pause and then she said, “Zach, you keep referring to the hacker and the killer as the same person and as a male. Do you have any evidence to reinforce your assumptions?”
“No. You’re right,” I acknowledged. “It just helps me keep my thoughts organized to call the killer a male. And until you said that, I assumed the hacker and the killer were the same.”
“You’ve reminded me to expand my research and not discount variables in the past. There is a possibility that the hacker and the killer are separate people, possibly related to this case or separate entities entirely.”
I drained the cup and felt the coffee hit my stomach. “Dammit. That’s all I need is for
two
loonies to be loose in Easytown.”
“It’s simply a suggestion. You’ve made plenty of enemies over the years. I don’t want you to misinterpret evidence.”
“Okay, we’ll
both
keep an eye out for the potential of multiple criminals.” I paused while I organized my thoughts. “That reminds me. I meant to have you do this last night, but the cyber-attack distracted me and then the damn attempted murder.”
“What do you require?”
“I need you to check out Jacqueline Wolfe. Check public records on her for any news, obviously, but I also want you to access her bank records for any large withdrawals or payments outside of what appears to be normal for her. Go back about a year—that’s how long Paxton said Wolfe’s been going to the Diva.”
“Too easy. I’ll need an official voice signature by you to authorize access due to an ongoing police investigation.”
“I authorize the access of all bank records, email and social media keyword searches and public record searches for Mrs. Jacqueline Wolfe, co-owner of Wolfe’s World of Gaming and Miniature Figures. Access is required for an ongoing police investigation. Signed Detective Zachary Forrest, New Orleans Police Department, Easytown Precinct.”
“I will access the bank records as soon as an employee grants me access tomorrow morning.”
“Sounds good, thanks. Oh, also, check out the public safety camera footage from outside The Digital Diva as well as the cameras outside the hobby shop. Let me know all the times that Jacqueline Wolfe came or went since noon on Friday.”
“Will do. Is Jacqueline Wolfe a suspect?”
“Not really. In fact, I’d initially discounted her, but she definitely has reason to dislike the Diva and Wolfe’s activities there, so I don’t want to exclude her.”
I sighed and thumped my hand down on the table. It was time to get back to work. “Bring up the video file that Drake sent yesterday.”
“Talking about the investigation may be therapeutic for your personality type, Zach. However, are you sure you wouldn’t like to rest before you begin reviewing evidence in the case?” Andi asked. “Studies show—”
“Andi, stop. If I’m right, we have a week to stop this guy until the next murder and I need to know everything I can about the case.”
She paused and then said, “Of course. Bringing it up on the dining room wall screen now.”
The apartment didn’t have a dedicated office space and I wasn’t having company over for dinner anytime soon, so the dining room was my office. My “desk” was the table. Notes from both old and current cases covered practically the entire surface. I’d get around to putting them into my personal files one day. For now, I knew exactly where everything was and I could grab what I needed quickly; it looked messy, but it worked for me.
A high-definition image of Wolfe’s face appeared on the wall. He smiled at the robot and his lips moved. “Volume at fifty percent and restart video playback,” I directed while I picked up the pen and pad of paper that always sat on the table for notes.
◦ ◦ ◦
“Hello, my lovely.” Wolfe’s voice was higher than I’d anticipated.
“Hi, Charlie.” Kelly’s voice echoed slightly. I didn’t know if the microphones for sound recognition were in the bot’s ears, which would make sense to me, so I jotted it down to have Andi research. “How was your week?”
He reached out and grabbed her hand, leading the way through the door to the client rooms. “I’m not in the mood for small talk tonight, Kelly. That jackass, Kyle, wiped me out early. Honestly, who throws a poison gas grenade at a satanic rat when we’re all standing five feet away?”
“Kyle did,” Kelly replied.
“Yeah. That dickhead rolled his way to safety. My dice came up with a one and a two. Can you believe that? A one and a two! What are the odds of rolling a one and a two?”
“There is a ninety-eight point six one one one six seven percent chance that you will roll a combination of a one and a two when using two twelve-sided dice. The odds were clearly not in your favor, baby.”
“I know the odds; I had the car calculate them on the way over.” He sounded annoyed as he pulled her along the hallway. “The manager said we’re in room one fifty-two… Is that in the first or second section?”
“Second section. The room is ahead on the right.”
◦ ◦ ◦
The robot trailed behind Wolfe and I recognized the t-shirt he wore. It had been on the chair in the room and looked to be the same design that Mrs. Wolfe wore when I went to the hobby shop the night before. His was decidedly less flattering than his wife’s, plus the wet stains in the armpits and across his back were disgusting.
The door was unlocked when they arrived. I added that to my list of notes. When did the door unlock? Was it when Paxton ran the john’s credit chip, when they got close to the room; or was the door always unlocked between clients? If it were the latter, that might have allowed a wide range of time for someone to enter the room.
◦ ◦ ◦
Kelly looked at the bed and her hand extended into view. She patted the comforter. “Is this where you want me tonight, Charlie? You can ravage me and your giant cock will make me beg for more.”
She glanced over at Wolfe. He’d already kicked off his shoes; his pants and underwear were around his ankles. “I want to do you standing up.”
“Mmm, I’d like that.” she purred.
He lifted his leg and lost his balance, falling forward onto the bed cursing. Kelly knelt quietly and assisted him with removing his jeans.
When his pants were off, he snatched them angrily from her and threw them onto the chair in a crumpled heap.
◦ ◦ ◦
“Pause,” I ordered. “Pull up crime scene photos.”
I went over to the kitchen counter and poured myself another cup of coffee. By the time I got back, Andi had the photos laid out in a tile pattern. I scrolled through them until I came to the one I wanted. “Enhance this one.”
I examined the chair with Wolfe’s clothing in it. “Go back to the video.” The video returned. The jeans seemed to be in the same haphazard position. “Go back to photos.”
The evidence collection team’s photos slid past smoothly as I scrolled through them again. They took meticulous photographs as they removed evidence piece by piece. I found the section I wanted and advanced slowly through pictures of a team member carefully removing the shirt. The jeans were still in the same position, so it was unlikely to be a botched robbery. Besides, there wasn’t any evidence that anything was missing.